Alternate Scene by the Lake 4
by Rumour of an Alchemist
Summary: It's 1976 and the scene by the lake after the fifth year defence OWLs but instead of trying to fight back with magic, Severus snaps his own wand and throws it at Lupin's feet, announcing he's quitting Hogwarts. Alternate Universe. Rating 'M'. Corrections/revisions made to 'Descent Through Fire', September 20th, 2013. Any remaining epilogues on indefinite hiatus.
1. Breaking Point

Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter.

Note:

The opening scene is by the lake at Hogwarts after the fifth year defence OWL exam in 1976. The following is set in an alternate universe, where instead of retaliating to the initial volley of marauder abuse and spells with an attack on James, Severus puts into operation a plan he's been saving up for if the Marauder attacks became too much for him to continue to put up with. This story goes in a completely different direction from canon.

* * *

><p>Severus Snape had had enough. The Marauders had ganged up on him, in broad daylight, in front of witnesses, and that wretched werewolf whom the headmaster had given the office of prefect just stood there and applauded gently as his fellow bullies set to. And then Lily Evans, another prefect, came storming up, but was all bark and no bite. She was supposed to be his friend – ostensibly – and if not that at least a prefect more responsible than Lupin. Did <em>she<em> do anything about her precious Gryffindor housemates? Not beyond empty bluffs that even the Marauders could see were hollow. Did they have blackmail material on her or something? At this point Severus didn't care. The whole Hogwarts institution was clearly rotten to the core. Time to put the plan into operation he'd had brewing ever since last year, when the headmaster had pressured him into silence over Sirius' attempted assassination-by-werewolf 'prank'. He glanced around again, reassuring himself of all the nice, _convenient_, witnesses. An audience was _good_ in this context, for what he had to do.

Severus spat out soap bubbles and raised his voice.

"So, once again, the great James Potter, rich pure-blood; Sirius Black, rich pure-blood from a dark family; and their boon companions gang up four-on-one on a poverty-stricken little halfblood student, of whose marks they are jealous." he snarled. The Marauders were frowning, but he wasn't raising his wand, and with his deliberately humiliated sounding tone, they were letting him carry on speaking. "The prefects have stood by and with their refusal to act shown that they consider James' Potter's cause Noble, Just, and _Right_. Well I apologise for filthing this school with my tainted blood, not so pure as theirs, and I cede the field to them. They have _won_. I quit this school and the wizarding world. I throw the broken pieces of my wand," he snapped it and threw them at Lupin, "at the feet of their domesticated werewolf. Black can find some other student to set him on for fun."

And he turned and stalked away, whilst there was a stunned silence and people were blinking, asking themselves if they had _really_ just seen Severus Snape snap his own wand and throw it away? He would have _liked_ to have stayed and said more – to have thrown in some insults – but he _had_ just broken his wand and wanted to escape whilst everyone was still too shocked to react.

And he had packing to do, to notify his head of house that he would be leaving, to owl his mother, and quite possibly the headmaster to see.

* * *

><p>Stunned silence greeted Severus in the Slytherin common-room. He had stopped by Professor Slughorn's office on the way – to leave a note, since the head of Slytherin was not in – and word of what had just passed by the lake had spread ahead of him back to Slytherin quarters.<p>

"Errr, I say, Severus, you were joking, and that was a fake wand, wasn't it?" John Avery approached him.

"No Avery, that was _not_ a fake wand, and I was _not_ joking." Severus snapped back. He made his displeasure clear with his use of the other Slytherin's last name. "And where have you been, so many times, when the Marauders were busy hexing me, hmm?"

Avery recoiled from the glare Severus shot him.

"Does this mean we can count on your support for… for… _him_?" Avery was uncertain, and clearly worried. He knew that reportedly one certain dark lord was highly interested in talent from Slytherin like Severus'.

"Avery. This is the Slytherin _common room_." Severus glared at him. "Even if I were of a mind to answer that, I would not do so in front of so many witnesses. If _you_ intend to find such an employer, I suggest you find a _little_ more discretion."

Avery was burning crimson now, with embarrassment. Severus didn't care any more. He headed for the dormitories.

* * *

><p>The butterbeer was flowing and there was much back-slapping going on in the Gryffindor common-room, with frequent toasts of 'James Potter and the Marauders'.<p>

"…Next, we shall do our best to give you messieurs Avery and Mulciber…" Sirius Black was busy making a speech as Lily walked in.

Like everyone else she had been stunned by Sev's performance down by the lake, and even more so when Lupin had picked up the pieces Sev had thrown at him and said that that _was_ a real wand – and looked like it had been Severus Snape's.

By the time Lily had recovered and had half a mind to wonder what was going on, Sev was off the scene. He had moved remarkably fast without appearing to hurry. She'd checked the library and some of his other favourite spots around the castle in case, somehow, he was there, but really she'd just been aimlessly wandering and pondering what had just happened?

Some of the words he'd tossed had stung – especially ones about the prefects who sat back and approved by doing nothing.

But that wasn't what really had her concerned. What concerned her was that Severus had looked and acted as if he had at least _thought through_ some of this, in advance, even if in the moment of putting it into operation it was bitter for him to do so.

"Hey, Evans! No need to lecture Snape about the dark arts any more!" Peter Pettigrew called out to her, crowing. "He won't be practising dark arts on anyone any time soon, with no wand."

That was true, Lily thought, and made her squirm inwardly. Had all her lectures on that very topic helped drive him to this?

"Too bad he outed Moony in the process, but as a parting shot from a defeated man, things could have been much worse." James added, giving Lupin a sympathetic glance.

Gryffindor House didn't care at the moment if Moony was a werewolf or not, anyway. He was part of The-Team-which-had-Vaniquished-Severus-Snape. He could have been announced as the love-child of Lord Voldemort, right now, and they wouldn't have cared.

Lily had played Severus Snape at chess once or twice. She remembered one game where she had been so busy gobbling up his major pieces that she failed to notice a sneaky manoeuvre with a line of advancing pawns and a knight, and it had been checkmate before she knew what was happening.

What had happened a short while ago by the lake reminded her uncomfortably of that game.

And even if there was no secret plan here, but just the plain and simple humiliation and defeat of Severus Snape, she was in no mood to party over what had just happened involving some of her housemates and someone who had once been a close friend.

A sour taste in her mouth, she headed for the Gryffindor girls' dormitories.

* * *

><p>"Severus, my lad: I just got your note. I don't understand."<p>

Severus paused in sorting through his possessions and looked over at the bumbling, well-meaning, face of Horace Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house, who was standing in the doorway.

"I quit, sir." Severus said curtly. "I see no point to remaining here at Hogwarts purely as the routine entertainment for the Marauders."

"But such talent…" the head of Slytherin started to boom.

"We both know, _sir_, that had I been a truly talented student, you would have been feeling me out for your club by now."

"Ahem." the head of Slytherin actually looked embarrassed. They both knew he had been enthusing over and sounding out Lily Evans during potions classes. "Pressure from above."

That was unexpected, and Severus' respect for Slughorn actually went up a notch. He had already assumed as much as that Dumbledore was exerting pressure on Slughorn over who he could give special treatment to, but he hadn't been expecting Slughorn to be able to actually admit it to Severus.

"Then I'm sorry about that, sir." Severus Snape said, affording Slughorn that much sympathy.

"Severus. I understand that with the strain of exams, things must have been a little stressful for you recently, and that perhaps if you were to rest and reflect upon this that in the morning things might…" Slughorn tried again.

"With respect, Sir, the Gryffindor gang and their patrons will still be here in the morning, and that is unlikely to change any time soon."

There was an uneasy silence for a moment or two, then Slughorn spoke again.

"Hmm. Well if you are truly bent upon this, owl me, or better yet owl one of my elves, if you ever need a reference for potions on the quiet."

Slughorn understood, then, at least a _very_ small part of the bigger picture. There were some forms of magic which a wizard could manage perfectly well without a wand. And he was offering to help with a reference – if he could – though preferably in a way which the headmaster might not be watching.

"Thank-you, Sir. I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

><p>Dumbledore had not sent for Severus by the time of the evening meal, which either meant he didn't give a damn about what Severus had done, or he was frantically reviewing every memory he could find in his pensieve, Severus considered. A wry smile touched his lips. Or perhaps Dumbledore was just busy with more important stuff, elsewhere. There <em>was<em> a war on, after all.

The Gryffindor table was boisterous, and there was much raising of goblets in the direction of the four Marauders. For the sake of irony, Severus bowed in their direction, when he entered the hall, and 'toasted' them with an imaginary goblet himself. They weren't too sure how to take that.

There was a quiet murmur around the other tables, and Severus heard the word 'werewolf' occasionally crop up, with glances being cast at the Gryffindor table.

During the meal, Severus was aware of glances occasionally being cast in _his_ direction from several diners at the Gryffindor table. Once the main course around the hall was generally done with, one of those glancers got up and crossed the floor to the Slytherin table.

"Do you mind if I sit here for dessert, Sev?"

She sounded worried.

Severus glanced at John Avery and Henry Mulciber, who were flanking him like guards of honour.

"Gentlemen? Would it be a problem?" He was asking them what _they_ thought.

"If it's for just the one sitting, for your pretty friend." Mulciber leered, but shifted, prompting a general motion along the bench, leaving room for the redhead to sit down at Severus' left hand.

"Since _my_ friends and housemates don't object to _your_ company." Severus said pleasantly, indicating the now empty space.

Lily bit her lip, but sat down.

She ate in uneasy silence, for a bit, before risking a joke to try and crack the prevailing frosty atmosphere.

"If these are the 'just desserts' my housemates insist Slytherins should get all the time, I must say, they're pretty good."

"What do you want, Lily?" Severus asked, dispensing with any pretence of light conversation.

"I don't know. To know what you're thinking, planning – if you have got something you're going to do next? You are going to be okay, aren't you?"

"Your housemates have made it quite clear that they do not want me in either this school or the wizarding world, and I have decided to oblige them. Do you _think_ I'm going to be okay?"

"I don't know, Severus. Look, that's why I'm asking."

"I suppose I should either be very concerned about your intellectual capacity, or feel very flattered." In the latter case, Severus was obliquely referring to the possibility that she actually thought that he _could_ cope without either a wand or completing his magical studies. She flushed, but he continued. "I repeat my question, Lily: What do you want? Or let me be more specific. Do you want _me_? In this circumstance a 'I don't know', given that your time and opportunities are rapidly diminishing, may as well be a 'no'."

"I…" she stopped and caught herself. "That's a hard question to spring on me out of nowhere."

"It's the only question left of _this_ part of my life that I have which matters to me." Severus calmly said, as if he were lecturing her on the properties of a sopophorous bean. "Don't answer 'yes' out of a sense of guilt or pity – or even of responsibility. Answer 'yes', if you do, because you want to make a difference. This isn't a game Lily. Not for me, any more."

There was a long silence in his vicinity.

"Yes." Lily said at last. "Merlin and Morgana help me, yes."

"Gentlemen." Severus glanced at Avery and Mulciber. "You heard the lady. If you wish to remain my friends, keep it in mind, please, even once I am gone from your company."

* * *

><p>Lily headed back to Gryffindor tower, after dinner, in something of a daze, wondering just why she'd said 'yes' in response to Severus' question? She felt almost as if she must have been confunded, but she hadn't noticed anyone raise a wand on her. The pressure of the situation with the sense of deadly earnestness she'd gotten off Sev had definitely been a contributing factor to her moment of madness, she decided. That and a sense she'd gotten from Sev that he'd been <em>trying<em> to push her away, so perversely she'd wanted to push back in the opposite direction to that which he'd been trying to shove her in. And what had that been about 'make a difference'? Was that some code for '_I want you to be a Death Eater with me_'? God, she hoped not.

It had been his eyes, she supposed. There had been an empty darkness in them, which scared her. She wanted to step in, and fill that void, in case something else _wicked_ came by and made its home there, to the undoing of them all.

She bumped into Remus in the Gryffindor common room, trying but failing to evade his new celebrity status. She drew him into a corner, said 'prefects' business' to the crowd by way of explanation, and put up a privacy charm.

"Remus. Could you check I haven't been confunded or anything like that?" Lily requested of her fellow prefect. "I had the weirdest conversation with Sev over dessert."

Remus pulled his wand out, murmured a quick spell, and studied her. At length he shook his head.

"If anyone's tampered with what's in your head, Lily, they haven't used any magic I can find traces of. What did he want?"

"Oh, just to say goodbye, and things. He's really not very happy with the way he's been treated." She embroidered the truth somewhat, keeping it away from the core of the conversation she'd had with him.

"I feel pity for him." Remus said. "Pity he ended up in the wrong house, and pity he kept so stubbornly trying to fight four other students at the same time. Against those sort of odds, he was always going to be in trouble. I ask myself questions about some of the things we have done, but clearly, if the teachers had thought we were overstepping any boundaries, they would have corrected us years ago. I do not know that we hoped to push him to this, but perhaps it is the best result for all concerned."

Remus looked troubled though, as if he doubted the truth of the words he'd just spoken…

The teachers, Lily thought to herself. She'd assumed, like Remus, that the staff would have stopped things if they'd been going too far, but now a nagging suspicion was gnawing away at the back of her mind, of what if the teachers weren't perfect?

* * *

><p>Author Notes: (revised, March 2013)<p>

So what exactly is Severus playing at? In this alternate universe he has considered that his position (attempting to study at Hogwarts) is no longer worth the effort of trying to maintain, and he decides to get out of it, on his own terms, effectively making a strategic withdrawal. He's figured he can't beat the Marauders and Dumbledore when they control the rules of this game, and he's sick to death of being targeted by them, so the only winning move he can make is to simply stop playing their game. If he's no longer a student at Hogwarts, Dumbledore ceases to have the power to blackmail and control him as a headmaster. If he snaps his wand, Dumbledore can't threaten to have it broken, and if he can snap it to support his short-term goals of causing as much chaos for Dumbledore and the Marauders as possible as he leaves, that's just a bonus. He doesn't need a wand to brew potions anyway, and being young and arrogant Severus figures that he'll be able to master wandless magic, if he needs it, with relative ease. And he has plans. The plans of someone who's been pushed _much_ too far, and doesn't give a fake knut about magical society in general.

At the time of writing, I do not have any information on canon first names for Avery or Mulciber. For the purposes of this story I have assigned them the names John and Henry, respectively, on the basis that those have both been names used by English kings, so could be considered halfway respectable by the Wizarding world.

Regarding Lily, she's been shocked by what happened by the lake, and might take actions which could be considered out of character, by canon standards, as a consequence. In the great hall at dinner, Severus put her under pressure for a yes/no answer, and in the end she made a snap decision, based on whatever her instincts were saying at that moment. And at the end of the chapter, she's trying to work out where that instinct _might_ have been coming from, trying to rationalise her decision. And to some extent there was a certain amount of narrative convenience to her saying 'yes' since if any further instalments of this story are forthcoming, it was something which Severus had definitely _not_ counted on. The Severus of this universe was certain from the way he'd seen their friendship deteriorating all year that she was just about ready to cut loose from him, and that he could execute his plans without a qualm. A potential long-term muggle-born girlfriend is something he hasn't factored into his plans at all.


	2. The Morning After

Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter.

Note: This story is set in an alternate universe, shortly after the events of the fifth year 1976 defence exam, where events and several characters are starting to significantly diverge from canon.

Reminder: For the purposes of this story, I have assigned Severus' Slytherin housemate 'Avery' a first name of 'John', and 'Mulciber' a first name of 'Henry'.

* * *

><p>Lily Evans did not sleep well. She dreamt she was wandless and stuck in a maze whose high-walled corridors resembled those of Hogwarts and with black velvet curtains she couldn't move hung over any windows. Occasionally, through chinks between the curtains, flickers of orange or red light as if from flames could be glimpsed, and as she wandered through the maze, the magical torches in their brackets which lit the maze seemed to be getting duller and duller.<p>

And then, the occasional wasp started to show up, yellow and black, nasty vicious stinging things, and she got the impression that some of them were _following_ her for some reason…

She began to hurry, to try and get away from the wasps,

She escaped the wasps, and up ahead appeared a pointed arch hung with a gauzy white curtain beyond which voices could be heard, and there was bright light.

She made her way through the curtain and found herself on a high balcony, with a balustrade, overlooking the great hall of Hogwarts. Below, the tables were arranged for dinner, but the pupils seated at them were frozen, in mid-motion.

On the balcony, she was seated playing herself at chess in a timed match under her own supervision.

A Lily with a Slytherin tie and crest on her robes was playing black against a Lily with a Gryffindor tie and crest on her robes, whilst a Lily with a Ravenclaw tie and crest was standing over the table, apparently officiating.

"And I'm telling you, that was the wrong move," Gryffindor Lily, playing white, said, pushing a pawn forward and stopping her side of the clock.

"It was subtle. And keeping our options open." Slytherin Lily moved a bishop, hitting the clock.

"Excuse me please. You're all me, right?" Lily looked at herselves and chipped in on this unusual conversation.

"Well _obviously_." Gryffindor Lily looked at her.

"Why isn't there a Hufflepuff Lily?" Lily asked.

Gryffindor Lily sniggered, and Ravenclaw Lily rolled her eyes.

"There is." Slytherin Lily said. "But you're not going to like it."

Gryffindor Lily shoved another pawn forward, then slapped the clock, before speaking and jerking her thumb at the balustrade. "Take a look over there. She's where you and I left her some months back."

Lily moved over to the balustrade and looked over the edge.

Immediately below, sprawled on the floor of the hall, barely moving, was another Lily. The crest on her robes wasn't visible, but what could be seen of her tie from up here was clearly a Hufflepuff one.

Lily turned away from the balustrade, feeling sick, and found Slytherin Lily had apparently made a move whilst her back was turned, and Gryffindor Lily was scowling and staring at the board again.

"It was for the Greater Good." Gryffindor Lily shot a glance at Lily. "Loyalty to _friends_ is _sooo_ over-rated, and she wouldn't stop whining. We both know that."

"Intellectually speaking, it should be possible to patch her up again, if she actually becomes useful." Ravenclaw Lily said.

"You mean when she becomes _convenient_ to you and your master." Slytherin Lily said.

"You're a fine one to talk about expedience." Gryffindor Lily pushed a rook sideways and slapped the clock.

"Hey, one of us has to be the teenage rebel, and with you two in the headmaster's court, and Hufflepuff Lily doing such a poor job you tossed her, that leaves just me. And anyway, I have better dress sense than you two. Slytherins are always better dressed." She delicately lifted a knight forward and hit the clock. "Check."

"We're dressed identically." Ravenclaw Lily frowned. "Bar the crests and ties. Well except for _her_." she nodded at Lily.

"That still doesn't preclude my having better dress sense." Slytherin Lily said. "And neither of you have deigned to deny it."

"Admit it. You're just trying to get the conversation around to boyfriends." Ravenclaw Lily said, looking cross.

"Well if I was, it looks like I just succeeded." Slytherin Lily smiled.

"This is *so* not fair." Gryffindor Lily pouted. "You two are going to gang up on me."

"We're not." said Ravenclaw Lily. "Not at this time. I'm simply officiating whilst you two play this out."

A wasp somehow found its way through the arch, past the curtain, and circled Lily a couple of times before heading for Gryffindor Lily.

Gryffindor Lily swatted at the buzzing thing with her hand a couple of times, and finally batted it, but succeeded in knocking the chessboard at the same time. One of her knights wobbled and fell over and she reached out a hand and instinctively straightened it up, then reached for another piece.

"You didn't say _J'adoube_." Slytherin Lily said. "We're playing by the strict letter of the rules and you touched it, so you move it or forfeit."

Gryffindor Lily pouted.

"Dumb wasp." Gryffindor Lily knocked over her king. "Alright, I concede this one…"

* * *

><p>Lily Evans woke up in Gryffindor tower, with a start, her mind filled with images of buzzing wasps and toppling kings. There was too much going on at this school which didn't make sense now she thought about it. She <em>wanted<em> so very much to trust that the headmaster and the teachers would run the school properly, and let the prefects know if they were making mistakes or doing a bad job of things, but she couldn't exhibit the simple blind faith that Remus had in them.

She didn't know what to think of Severus either, but right now he was in trouble and he needed support from _any_ of his friends.

* * *

><p>The headmaster sent for Severus after breakfast. Severus had finished packing his trunk immediately after getting dressed, and he had just finished breakfast in the great hall, and was all ready to go collect his trunk from the Slytherin dormitory and set off for Hogsmeade to floo home – or at least as close to home as public floos would get him – when a school owl dropped the note summonsing him at his place.<p>

Severus headed for the headmaster's office, feeling murderous. He had been hoping to be home for lunch.

It was probably lucky for both of them, he considered, that he didn't have a wand any more, and wasn't up to speed with wandless hexes.

"Mr. Snape. I thought we had an understanding, that so long as you wished to remain at this school and have an education here, you would not mention Mr. Black's little prank of last year in which Mr. Lupin was an unwitting associate." The headmaster didn't bother to mess around with subtle nuances, but went straight in for the kill. Behind the shield of his glasses there was a hard *glint* in the headmaster's eyes.

Severus took a moment to glance around the headmaster's office for what he was sure would be the last time in his time as a Hogwarts student and tried to calm himself and collect his defences against mental intrusions, before answering. He noticed the headmaster's avian pet was missing. Perhaps it was too embarrassed to be present, or maybe the phoenix was off on an errand for the headmaster elsewhere.

"In case it escaped your attention, _sir_, I have renounced my education here, quit this school, and intend to floo home this morning." Severus said, looking the headmaster square in the eyes. He wondered exactly what the old coot had been doing yesterday, if he hadn't heard what happened – or maybe he just wanted to hear it confirmed from Severus' own lips? "I notified my head of house to that effect in writing and confirmed it verbally yesterday afternoon. In case you were wondering, I also snapped my wand, myself, and tossed it at the feet of Black's pet werewolf."

He put his memories pertaining to those events to the forefront of his mind just in case the headmaster wanted to furtively attempt legilimency on him.

"Still harping on that old incident, Mr. Snape? As I explained to you, that was an entirely innocent and light-hearted prank, which you seem determined to wilfully misconstrue." Dumbledore said. "Well, since you seem to have seen fit to take yourself out of my school, the only sanction I can apply to you for spreading these vicious rumours is to ensure that you are immediately disqualified from any and all of this year's OWL examinations for which you have not yet been marked. I should also warn you, Mr. Snape, that if you take this campaign to an organ of publicity, such as _The Daily Prophet_, I shall use what influence I have in the ministry to not only _kill_ the story, but to see that you are pursued – in the courts if possible – for making untrue statements and that your family background is examined in the fullest detail by Ministry experts. Your mother made an ill-advised marriage to a muggle, I seem to recall, and it may be that such an upbringing as you must have had has left you mentally deranged. The _Prophet_ would be highly interested in running such a story, I feel, irrespective of whether or not in the end it proved necessary to commit you to a long-term ward in Saint Mungo's, for the good of your own mental health. If you have already owled any paper with this story, I would recommend that you inform them it was an ill-judged prank upon your part, and sincerely apologise for any trouble you have put them to. If you no longer wish to play in my school, by my rules, Mr. Snape, then I shall treat you as if you were an adult, irrespective of your age, and you may find the play a little rough for your liking. We are in the middle of a war, Mr. Snape, and the Minister and his officials _value_ my wisdom and skills – considerably more than they might heed the opinions of any arrogant, callow, teenage boy, who like so many of his age seems to consider himself the cleverest wizard since Merlin." Dumbledore paused, deliberately, then said slowly and coldly: "Do we understand one another, Mr, Snape?"

"Perfectly, sir." Severus returned his gaze. Were he not a minor still, he wouldn't have bothered with affording the man the respect of that 'sir'.

"I am a busy man, Mr. Snape, and though it saddens me that you have wilfully chosen to throw away any future you might have had in the wizarding world," a note of sorrow seemed to touch the headmaster's voice for a moment, although Severus doubted it was genuine, "you have made it perfectly clear you do not wish me to concern myself with trying either to help you or to improve your position. Once the current war is over, if you have somehow managed to keep your nose clean for that long, I may find the time to read any letter of apology which you wish to send to me and we may perhaps begin again on a better footing if I find you sufficiently contrite. You may see yourself out now. And don't bother to look for a replacement wand from any reputable dealer in Europe, Mr. Snape. You won't find them very cooperative to one who shows such disrespect for their products as to break a wand for some no doubt petty reason such as to deny me from pursuing such a sanction."

* * *

><p>As Severus left the headmaster's office, he considered just how out of touch Dumbledore <em>must<em> be with current school events if he thought that it was only Severus Snape talking about Lupin being a werewolf. This morning at breakfast Potter had been openly _crowing_ about Remus Lupin being a 'big bad werewolf' – to Lupin's obvious embarrassment – and Peter Pettigrew had been boasting something hard to credit about how he and Potter and Black were all animagi, too. It was too late for Dumbledore to keep a lid on his pet werewolf's nature, unless he could obliviate the entire student population of the school.

Well, that had gone about as well as he had expected. Dumbledore had decided to make an example of him, to make it clear he would take a hard line on what he perceived as troublemakers who were not members of his favourite house.

* * *

><p>To his surprise Severus found Lily waiting for him on one of the settees in the Slytherin common room, accompanied (to discourage anything more than an occasional curious glance from other Slytherins) by John and Henry.<p>

"I thought I'd get my revision for my next exam done down here, and wait to hear how things went?" Lily said, looking up at Severus.

"He's retroactively disqualifying me from any OWLs which haven't been marked yet and threatened me with legal action if I spread anything he has any grounds to call 'untrue stories' about Lupin. Could you give the four of us some privacy, John?"

John raised his wand and muttered a couple of charms, and the sounds and view of the rest of the Slytherin common-room became cut off by a shimmering bubble of rainbow colours.

"He also threatened to have me locked up in Saint Mungo's as a madman if I continue to make a nuisance of myself." Severus continued. "Which would of course immediately undermine anything which I had said. And he promised to make it very difficult for me, if I _do_ go looking, to get a replacement wand from any reputable dealer in Europe. I would advise the three of you not to say anything too openly against the Hogwarts headmaster – or in my favour – for the rest of this term in case he suddenly discovers an outbreak of insanity amongst pupils in our year, and decides you look good for Saint Mungo's beds, too. Remember he may well also intercept and check any mail owls."

Lily was making outraged spluttering noises, whilst John and Henry exchanged cynical glances.

"But, but… Sev. This is awful…" Lily protested.

"It's _politics_. I've opted out of his school, so he's decided to play tough with me. It's no more than I was expecting."

"What now?" Henry asked. "He's threatened you with the establishment, but…" he trailed off and glanced sideways at Lily and looked awkward.

Severus could see Henry wanted to mention 'Voldemort' but was uncertain if that was an acceptable subject of conversation around Lily. Severus responded as if he'd taken the question a different way from what Henry had intended.

"Given the talk at breakfast this morning, it's possible that when pupils go home to their parents for the summer that the governors will hear about what's happened during the past twenty-four hours or so. The headmaster will buy the governors off with favours or promises of favours, but I don't know if he'll keep Remus Lupin at the school if they make a fuss about that. He'll insist I'm a disruptive influence and kill any proposals or attempts to get me back. My Hogwarts education is effectively over, for as long as he remains headmaster. He has the support of the Ministry, who _need_ him for as long as there's a war on, so it's likely he will remain as headmaster here for as long as he wants in the immediate future, irrespective of anything the governors may say or try to do. If necessary, the Minister for Magic will sign new laws to keep Dumbledore happy. In the meantime, I either emigrate to Australia or look for a career in the muggle world."

"Or look for something 'unofficial' in the magical world, Severus." John prompted.

"I want a _job_ with prospects and influence, John. At best, almost anything 'unofficial' would be a spare-time hobby for loose change, under the current conditions. I'm a sixteen year old with probably no OWLs and with no wand."

"Sev: doesn't?..." Lily started to ask, then trailed off and bit her lip, likely figuring that if Severus wanted to say what had likely gone through _her_ mind, in front of John and Henry, he would have mentioned it. She shook her head and sighed. "Never mind, Sev. I'll see you when I come home for the holidays."

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore, from a conveniently placed window, watched Severus Snape trudging away down the road to Hogsmeade, and felt satisfied. One of the most disruptive Slytherin students in the year was gone. Yes, he may have been a model student in most classes, and certainly a highly skilled one, but he had unceasingly picked on the four same Gryffindor students in his year ever since practically their first day. The headmaster wondered if it had been perhaps a result of jealousy? Probably, he suspected. Mr. Snape came from a poor background with a mother who had been cut off by her family and a household which was all but broken with frequent rows between his parents, if what Albus had heard was true. It was no surprise if he'd wanted to show up James and Sirius, coming from rich, influential, families as they did, even if Sirius was having a little temporary trouble with his own parents. Albus wouldn't put it past Mr. Snape to be jealous of their blood-status too, with their both being purebloods, whilst he had the humiliation due to his mother's unfortunate marriage of being a half-blood. Not that Albus had anything against half-bloods – he was one himself after all – but he could understand how it might make someone such as Mr. Snape feel inferior around someone such as James or Sirius.<p>

Albus still didn't quite understand the way this had ended though. He'd arrived back from the ministry in the early hours of the morning to find a message on his desk from Minerva about Severus Snape having been spreading tales about Lupin being a werewolf, and doing it in public. Albus had been tired after an all-night session of the Wizengamot which he hadn't been able to afford to miss, discussing emergency measures for the war, and he hadn't bothered to try and uncover the exact details behind his deputy's rather terse note. He'd sent for Mr. Snape after breakfast, intending to get the truth and then at the very least to suspend him, and been surprised to discover that Mr. Snape had apparently already quit the school – a move Albus had quickly decided was intended solely to wrong-foot him, and make the headmaster look weak and powerless. Well Albus had _no_ intention of letting any Slytherin get away with such blatant disrespect for him, and he had rapidly upped his game, trumping almost everything Severus had done. He had responded to Mr. Snape's show of disrespect with a completely ruthless display of power, intended to make Albus' own points crystal clear and an example of Mr. Snape for the future.

Albus couldn't think why Slytherins kept trying to pull fast-ones? Surely, Slytherin house should have learned by now that any time thy tried to come up with some new trick, the headmaster would crack down on them even harder? He would have _expected_ a house with a reputation for cunning to have collectively learnt not to so blatantly oppose the headmaster's will.

But the wand… the wand snapping bothered Albus. At first he had assumed it was simply another way to get back at him – a 'well you can't beat this', sneer, which Albus _had_ beaten by promising that it would be virtually impossible for a person of Mr. Snape's impoverished means to find a decent quality replacement anywhere in Europe. He would have to write to Olivander and ask him to spread word to that effect later today. Now, though, Albus had to wonder if perhaps Mr. Snape intended to simply quit the magical world altogether, in which case he _had_ had the last laugh. Due to the constraints of the International Statute and the demands of the war, Albus' options for pursuing Mr. Snape into the muggle world were strictly limited.

Still, if Mr. Snape had won even a small battle by departing the magical world, Albus had won the war. There would be no Mr. Snape now, to provide a distraction to James and his friends, and they would be able to concentrate much more effectively on the things that they did so well, readying themselves for the day when Albus would invite them to join the secret society he was forming to provide 'off the books' assistance to the Ministry in their war against Voldemort. Albus _had_ been intending to name it something inspiring and uplifting such as 'The Order of the Phoenix', but the war seemed to so get Fawkes' spirits down, and he had seen very little of him recently. Perhaps something such as 'The Knights of the Lion' might be better – that had a nice ring to it, and Albus was sure that the greater part of its membership would be drawn from the ranks of the house of the bravest and the best.

And Mr. Snape _certainly_ wouldn't be making any more public pronouncements about Remus being a werewolf, of that Albus _was_ sure.

Hmm. It occurred to Albus, as he watched Mr. Snape disappear from sight, that there was no sign of Mr. Snape's trunk. Either he'd had to abandon it or one of his friends must have shrunk it for him…

* * *

><p>Author Notes:<p>

Well, there it is, what happens when you go up against A. P. W. B. Dumbledore, at the height of his political power, and he decides to be ruthless about it... I'd like to thank the reviewers who've already (as of March 16th, 2012) commented on chapter 1, as some of you made points I've tried to take into account in writing the narrative of this chapter.

Regarding wands, I've concluded that for the purposes of this story, permanently replacing a wand which chose that witch or wizard in the first place is very difficult for that witch or wizard, unless she or he can take one 'by conquest' or knows a friendly wandmaker who can custom-build one (as Mr. Ollivander apparently does for Luna Lovegood in book 7 of canon). From a narrative point of view, this means Severus Snape has done something fairly significant in snapping his own wand, as other witches and wizards will recognise, and means (even before Dumbledore stuck his oar in) he was always going to have difficulty replacing it 'off a shop-shelf'. Severus did _plan_ on snapping his wand, however, and was reasonably sure that he could cope without one.

Lily encountering different aspects of herself in her dream was something which came to me as I was writing it, although I think the idea may have been partially inspired by something which happens in the 'Planescape: Torment' game from Black Isle. The wasps in her dream can be taken to be taken to be doubts hounding her, and/or symbols of Albus Dumbledore (whose name is linked by the Harry Potter wikipedia to a bumble bee, although bees sting once and then die, whereas wasps can keep on stinging...). Lily is somewhat confused and uncertain about where she's going at the start of this chapter, although progressing events during this chapter impact her further. She shows up in the Slytherin common room to wait for 'Sev' as much out of guilt over the lack of loyalty she's been showing for some time as anything else...

Albus Dumbledore in this chapter smacked Severus Snape down, because he saw nothing more than an annoying teenaged wizard, who has been bothering his favourite pupils for years, and seemed to be trying to do nothing more than trying to undermine his authority and position in the school. He was tired, he was stressed, and he wanted to take action which would head off the possible threat to Remus Lupin, put Severus Snape firmly in his place, and send a strong message that disrespect like this was going to have strong consequences. In canon Albus Dumbledore is shown as having moments where he can be extremely cold-blooded and ruthless, and Severus Snape crossed his firing line in this chapter when Albus Dumbledore, in the middle of a war where the ministry _needs_ him, is, I imagine, at the very height of his influence. It was almost certainly going to get messy. And because there's a war on, and the government needs him Albus can ignore a _lot_ of problems which in peace time would be coming his way as a result of the past twenty four hours. Other people involved might be hit by flying shrapnel, but Albus himself is almost politically untouchable at this moment.

A final note to DUJ as acknowledgement and thanks for the lengthy discussion over wands and wandlore.


	3. Damage Control

Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter.

Note: This story is set in an alternate universe, shortly after the events of the fifth year 1976 defence exam, where events and several characters are starting to significantly diverge from canon.

* * *

><p>Mr. Snape now safely being gone, Albus turned his attention to other business. Initial reports of the incident by the lake would have clearly found their way out of the school in the window between the actual incident and Albus' return to the school, so now Albus had to put fire-fighting tactics into operation, to limit any damage which had already been done.<p>

He sat down and began to compose a letter:

_Dear Parent or Guardian, _

_There has recently been an unpleasant incident involving a fifth year Slytherin student who made some highly distasteful allegations about other students, and in what could be described as a temper tantrum then snapped his own wand. The Slytherin student in question has been severely disciplined and now left the school premises for good. I am writing to assure you that at no point, during the incident, was the physical safety of any other student threatened and I will undertake a most rigorous investigation into all the circumstances surrounding this event. I will consult with the school governors, regarding my findings, in a meeting I will shortly request for the end of July. _

_Although I was attending to important business concerning the future of all our children at the Ministry during the incident, the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall, was present at the school at the time, and took all the steps she considered necessary to keep me informed of the situation. There were at least two prefects on the scene who helped to ensure that order was maintained, and whose presence, I am sure, helped to ensure that there was no harm done to any student. _

_I completely trust my deputy, the other staff, and those upper year pupils assigned to positions of responsibility to act in the interests of Hogwarts and of the security of its pupils, and I believe that the governors will agree with my current sentiment, when I present my findings, that no student was in any physical danger at any time. _

_As to any allegations made by the student in question, I have no wish to add to the injuries of any students he named by repeating his wild accusations here, although I __will__ check most carefully what evidence, if any, may exist which may have given rise to his deranged outburst. In what I hope is the unlikely event of his stories turning out to have any foundation in fact at all, I will however, I assure you, work with the governors to ensure that any necessary steps are taken to ensure the continued safety of all our students. _

_Yours, _

_A. P. W. B. Dumbledore, headmaster._

He read the letter through a couple of times, then summoned one of the Hogwarts elves and handed over the letter.

"Multiply this and prepare for an owl run tonight to send it to all parents of current pupils, subject to my personal final confirmation." the headmaster said. He yawned. Best to postpone sending it until he'd slept on it. He'd been up more than a day, and even with potions there were limits to how long one could safely keep going, but he had to floo-call the governors to arrange that meeting now, before he could retire to bed. It was important to maintain the initiative here, and to act pre-emptively. A meeting for the end of July would give him plenty of time to research his 'report', would ensure that memories of this unpleasantness had had time to fade and emotions to settle, and most important of all would be after this school year was safely over. Governors' meetings in the long summer holiday always made most things seem less urgent, and the governors felt under less pressure to take drastic action such as, say, removing one Remus Lupin from the premises if evidence came to light that even the Hogwarts headmaster couldn't make go away that he actually _was_ a werewolf.

* * *

><p>After floo-calling the governors to set up the meeting, Albus had a nice long snooze, and awoke just in time for dinner. He found a request from his deputy had been delivered to stop by his office, which he duly did, where he found a nearly frantic Minerva McGonagall waiting for him.<p>

"It's all around the school, Albus: the Marauders themselves have been boasting that Remus is a werewolf, and Peter's been spreading a story that the other three of them are all animagi too. Apparently they may have given some sort of private demonstration to the Gryffindor common-room this afternoon."

"What enterprising young men." Albus beamed, feeling benevolent.

"Albus. If they are animagi, they're _unregistered_ ones. I have a friend in the ministry who sent me over a list this afternoon of all registered animagi, and unless they're amongst the half a dozen ministry employees whose details are 'classified for security rasons', they're not listed."

"Ah." Albus' good mood evaporated. "Well, they're underage, so I'm certain that they won't be held too harshly to account for this by the Ministry, if there _should_ be any convincing evidence that this latest rumour is correct – especially if they weren't aware, as I'm sure that they'll say, that it is an offence to be an unregistered animagus. I want the four Marauders in my office after dinner, and you along too, Minerva, and we'll see if we can't straighten this latest difficulty out."

* * *

><p>"Mr. Potter." Albus fixed that young man with his 'stern but grandfatherly' gaze. After a dinner which Albus had enjoyed rather less than he would have done under other circumstances, Albus had gathered the four Marauders and Minerva in his office. "I thought that I made it clear to you that you and your friends were not supposed to tell anyone about Remus' condition?"<p>

"Well that was before Severus made his public announcement of the fact." James said. "And it was all around the school by dinner last night, so…"

"Mr. Potter. What one _Slytherin_ student, jealous of your family, wealth, and sporting prowess may have said about one of your friends _might_ have been a vicious rumour with no foundation in facts." Albus saw James Potter frown, not at all understanding what the headmaster was getting at, whilst Sirius and Peter both looked suddenly _very_ interested. Remus was just looking thoroughly down-in-the-dumps about the whole business. "I could have protected your friend, Mr. Lupin here, a lot more effectively had it been just the word of Mr. Snape in this matter. Your own testimony to the fact has complicated things considerably." He sighed, and hoped that James had taken the hint. "I now move on to the next rumour which I gather is circulating the school. It is being said, so I gather, Mr. Potter, that moved by Mr. Lupin's unfortunate personal circumstances, yourself, Mr. Black, and Mr. Pettigrew have all become animagi?"

"Well yes." James beamed. "I'm a stag, Sirius here is a grim, and Peter is a rather handsome brown rat… Oww. You stepped on my toe, Padfoot." He turned to glare accusingly at Sirius.

"Sorry, James. It must have been an accident." Sirius said.

"Were the three of you aware that it is illegal to become animagi and not to register with the Ministry?" Dumbledore asked, giving a meaningful glance at Sirius, who seemed considerably faster on the uptake than James.

James opened his mouth and gave a small gasp, as Sirius again, rather more heavily this time, stepped on his foot.

"We were not, sir." Sirius said.

"Splendid. I was sure that this would in fact turn out to be the case." Albus beamed.

"With respect, headmaster, I make it _quite_ clear in my transfiguration classes that mention animagus transformations that British animagi are required to register with the Ministry." Minerva decided to raise a token objection. "The Ministry requires that I do. I would be breaking the law, if I did not."

"I'm sorry, Professor, but when you start going on about legal stuff, you tend to lose our attention and we start talking about quidditch plays or pretty girls." Sirius said smoothly. "I'm sure we'll all be happy to take lines 'I must pay attention more carefully in transfiguration class' – or an essay – as punishment."

"Which sounds an excellent idea to me, Mr. Black." Albus said. "And you can rest assured, that such a punishment will indeed be forthcoming at some point."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for each of the four of you." Minerva scowled, not willing to let the subject go, presumably outraged that the Marauders were using 'we don't pay attention in your classes' as a defence. "And detention with me next Saturday."

"And two hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor for each of you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, and Mr. Pettigrew, for being what I am sure are the youngest animagi for several decades, at least." the headmaster beamed again. He caught the rather nasty glare Minerva sent at him, and made a hasty addition. "Contingent upon your registering with the Ministry by the end of term, of course. And fifty points to your friend, Mr. Lupin, for helping you to achieve this, again contingent upon your registering. And I'm sure, given that you're all underage and the remarkable talents that you've shown, that the Ministry will go very easy on you – perhaps only small fines and a requirement to spend a day or two carrying out public services for them with the auror department over the summer. After all," he clapped his hands enthusiastically, "you're young, and I'm sure the Ministry will appreciate the need to give you second chances for not filling in paperwork you didn't even _know_ existed. Second chances are something I am a great believer in…" He changed his expression to a more solemn one. "Sadly, however, your friend Mr. Lupin, through no fault of your own…" And then he trailed off and blinked, as an astonishing brainwave hit him. He mustered his mental powers, and ran over the idea, as the Marauders stared at him, with bated breaths. "Sadly, your friend, Mr. Lupin could get in an _awful_ lot of trouble, but I have just had one of my more ingenious ideas." He could see the posters now, in his mind, in three or four years time, of the Marauders, splendidly robed, and wands out, the images of a ghostly stag, grim, rat and wolf in the background behind them. The Ministry, if it was put to them the right way, would _love_ this.

"Mr. Lupin. Could I just confirm to me that you are the most level-headed member of the Marauders, and the voice of moderation?"

"Yes sir." Remus said, looking surprised.

"It's true, sir." Sirius added, sensing this might help his friend. "Some of our more outrageous schemes to hex Snivel… err, Mr. Snape… in the past twelve months have been toned down slightly when Moony's sighed, rolled his eyes in this way he has, and pointed out that what we were doing was straying slightly _too_ close to being _dark_."

"Splendid." the headmaster beamed. Whilst the Ministry would not contemplate a change to their view of werewolves in general, he was certain they could be persuaded to retroactively authorise an experimental study involving a one-of-a-kind, 'civilised' werewolf, who was utterly at odds with the norm. He was already running through who at the Ministry would buy exactly what lines of reasoning in his mind.

"Contingent upon your registering as animagi, how would you feel about future careers, once you left school, working as aurors if it would save the education of your friend Mr. Lupin here? There would, alas, be drawbacks, such as becoming moderately famous, but nothing which I'm sure young men of your calibre couldn't work around…"

James, Sirius, and Peter were all grinning like crazy, and Lupin put up _both_ his eyebrows this time in his surprise.

* * *

><p>"Ministry poster boys for the auror service?" Minerva gave Albus an absolutely filthy look once the Marauders had departed for Gryffindor tower.<p>

"In times of war, recruiting becomes particularly troublesome, and the quartet of Marauders could boost morale and lend the service considerable glamour. A 'white sheep' werewolf, and three of the youngest animagi for a generation or three; there are some in the Ministry who'd kill for good press like that. And James, Sirius, and Peter all seemed very enthusiastic at the thought, and Remus would consider it a sacrifice worth making to be able to finish his education, I dare say." Albus was operating in full-twinkle mode now, feeling buoyed and ebullient. "The Ministry pretends that they were going along with Remus at Hogwarts all the time and make sure that they state he was being closely monitored, and this all goes away. Oh yes, in the general picture it doesn't advance werewolf rights, alas – I dare say the Ministry will find it convenient to 'discover' a prophecy which indicated Remus to be a special case – but everyone ends up happy except for Mr. Snape. Unless, Minerva, you would prefer to see Mr. Lupin thrown out of school because a _Slytherin_ student thought it would be fun to tell the world what he was and his friends didn't have the sense to keep their mouths shut but confirmed it?"

"No! I don't want that at all!" Minerva hotly protested. She pursed her lips. "But I don't like all this wangling and political chicanery."

"It is, alas, the price of our civilisation, Minerva. Now if you'll excuse me, but I have a letter to rewrite for an owl-run, and the Ministry to floo. Thank Merlin I had the foresight to tell the elves to hold the run pending my confirmation. Did you have something to add, Minerva? I note that you are still here."

"I have reservations about what this might do to some of the Marauders' egos. There is such a thing as getting _too_ bigheaded, you know."

"Well just to be on the safe side, we do have them under vow of secrecy on _this_, at least until we've set it up with the Ministry and the Ministry chooses to publicise the details. And it's quite natural for young men to be excited at the possibilities of making such valuable contributions to society. A state of high spirits because of it should not at all be discouraged, I feel…"

The only discordant note remaining in the now otherwise rather rosy picture that Albus could see was that he was going to have to change the agenda for the governors' meeting he'd set up for July; but once he got the ministry behind this, he could make something up to tell the governors to the effect that the real reason he'd called the meeting had had to be classified – at least until he'd cleared it with the ministry first. Yes, that would probably work…

* * *

><p>Severus Snape's reception, once he got home, was mixed. His father was easier to deal with, not least because he hadn't been that impressed by his son gallivanting off to have a wizarding education in the first place, and Severus explained to him that having packed in any ambitions for a life in the wizarding world right now, he was interested in taking a junior office position in the firm his father worked for. Severus' mother was distraught however, not least because he'd snapped his wand.<p>

"Hogwarts isn't like it was in your day." Severus had to restrain himself from raising his voice in exasperation, as he tried to make his mother _understand_. "The school under Albus Dumbledore is _not_ what it was under Armando Dippet. Albus Dumbledore's idea of a 'special award for services' for any Slytherin is three detentions doing filthy work for the groundskeeper, Hagrid. The man's blatantly prejudiced, and seems to regard the school as his personal propaganda machine and training ground for good little Gryffindors who will do his bidding in the war."

He excused himself after dinner and went to bed early, citing a long day and a desire to get into a routine of early rising for a hopeful future career at Bingby & Cratchettall.

* * *

><p>Author Notes:<p>

Albus Dumbledore's initial belief with regard to the situation is that it's only Mr. Snape's account that Remus is a werewolf which he has to worry about, and that he can just pass that off as malicious gossip and get Remus in the clear. This is what he based his strategy around with the letter he wrote, and the board of governors meeting he set up before he took his nap. Once he wakes up to the news that the Marauders themselves have been spreading that Remus is a werewolf, Albus' original plan has to go out of the window. At that point his inclination is heading towards passing defending (successfully or otherwise) Remus off to someone else, whilst he tries to keep the _other_ three Marauders out of trouble over the animagus business, until happy inspiration strikes and he finds a way to 'save' Remus and inflate Marauder egos still further...

Minerva makes some token protests to some of the aspects of Albus' plans but he of course knows how to wrap her around his little finger.

I did consider what stance Minerva might have regarding Albus' treatment of Severus, but I haven't really moved her attitude from what I perceive it to be in canon of virtually unquestioning loyalty to Albus. Even if she _knew_ the full details of what was said in the private conversation after breakfast between the headmaster and Severus, it seems likely to me (especially given Severus is a Slytherin who's been feuding with four of her own house's students for years) she'd simply assume the headmaster knew what he was doing and had acted entirely properly (and just why should she stand up for one of those horrible Slytherins anyway, in her mind?).

With regard to the short description of the immediate aftermath of Severus' return home, although I'm unclear on the exact dates of Hogwarts headmasters and of Eileen Prince's attendance, it seems likely to me that Eileen was at Hogwarts in the Armando Dippet era, under a different regime to that of Albus Dumbledore.

Being unaware of any such detail being supplied in canon, I have taken the liberty of inventing a firm and a name for it at which Tobias Snape works.


	4. The Perturbations of Lily Evans

Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter.

Note: This story is set in an alternate universe, shortly after the events of the fifth year 1976 defence exam, where events and several characters are starting to significantly diverge from canon.

* * *

><p>"…it doesn't prove anything!"<p>

The night after Sev left Hogwarts Lily found herselves arguing with one another again in a dream. This time, the venue was the headmaster's office, but an infirmary bed had been added, in one corner, in which Hufflepuff Lily was lying heavily bandaged and being currently ignored by Gryffindor Lily, Ravenclaw Lily, and Slytherin Lily.

Lily had wandered into the office, for some reason certain that she was supposed to be looking for the Sorting Hat, and come upon herselves squabbling.

There was a scarecrow effigy of the headmaster, with a pumpkin and a cotton wool beard in place of a head, and straw sticking out of the corners of his second-hand robes, stuffed into the headmaster's chair. Someone had pinned a sign to it which said 'Penny fer the guy'. The handwriting looked rather like Hagrid's.

"Hi Lily." Ravenclaw Lily waved at Lily, completely ignoring whatever Gryffindor Lily had just been trying to convey. She giggled and indicated the dummy in the chair. "Do you like it? It's our straw man."

"It's disrespectful." Gryffindor Lily folded her arms and huffed. "That's what it is."

"Technically, for it to be disrespectful, he has to have done something worthy of respect in the first place, and if the only thing you can trot out is 'well he killed Grindelwald' I shall scream." Ravenclaw Lily retorted. "Number one, that was thirty years ago. Number two, he didn't kill him; he defeated him and packed him off to prison somewhere."

Lily glanced around the headmaster's office, but couldn't see the Sorting Hat anywhere.

"Uhhh, do you know where the Sorting Hat is?" Lily asked Slytherin Lily who had been watching the continuing argument between Gryffindor Lily and Ravenclaw Lily with an amused expression on her face.

"Did you finally figure it out then?" Slytherin Lily arched an eyebrow.

"Umm, no." Lily admitted, not having any idea what the other was talking about. In the background Gryffindor Lily and Ravenclaw Lily had started up at one another again.

"Honestly, some days it's difficult to imagine there's any of me in us." Slytherin Lily sighed. "The Sorting Hat" she explained, as if to a child, "is independent and free of house bias. It has to be to do its job. It judges without being judgemental, at least if such a thing could be said to be possible."

"And so?" Lily said.

"Hopeless." Slytherin Lily shook her head. "Unless you want to embrace me, you'll have to figure it out on your own." She raised her voice to Gryffindor Lily and Ravenclaw Lily. "Knock it off, you two. I could be seducing Lily here into all sorts of mischief."

Gryffindor Lily and Ravenclaw Lily reluctantly stopped.

"Ravenclaw Lily's been out of sorts ever since she realised that the only person of approximately our age with brains, sensitivity for us, and of the opposite sex just left the school." Slytherin Lily said in an aside to Lily. "She blames us for it, not unnaturally, for not sticking to him more for longer or trying to de-escalate the whole Marauder business." Slytherin Lily turned and addressed the room in general. "Right: Severus has now gone and it's clear the headmaster isn't quite what we thought. My personal inclination is we need a cunning plan to turn the situation to maximum advantage, but I'll settle for an assessment and discussion of the situation for now."

"Who says the headmaster isn't what we thought?" Gryffindor Lily muttered mutinously.

"Alright, I'll play Dumbledore's advocate for a moment. Let's assume that the headmaster has a cunning, underhanded, sneaky, thoroughly Slytherin motivation for doing what he did to Severus for any reasons other than the obvious…" Slytherin Lily began.

"The headmaster is _not_ cunning, underhanded, sneaky, or _Slytherin_." Gryffindor Lily denied.

"Which being the case, _why_ should we take his actions as being anything other than they appear to be?" Ravenclaw Lily enquired. She cast a sideways glance at Hufflepuff Lily who was feebly trying to move or say something. "Look, this one's _not_ about loyalty right now. He has so much power, we need to objectively assess what he's doing and if it makes any kind of sense to us."

"And his actions appear to me to be that he's trying to keep a wizard who we know was at least _dabbling_ in the dark arts from going bad." Gryffindor Lily continued, though now sounding a bit defensive. "He was just being a bit… firm-handed… about it."

"He was trying to keep a wizard from going bad by making it very difficult for him to replace his wand – if he wanted to do so – by any _legal_ means?" Slytherin Lily managed to somehow sound both cynical and respectfully polite.

"He… he…" Gryffindor Lily was floundering. She glanced at Hufflepuff Lily, but Hufflepuff Lily wasn't really in a state to contribute much, having been apparently fatigued by her earlier effort. "Okay." Gryffindor Lily conceded. "He's completely crackers at the moment. It must be strain with the war on, and him having all that stuff to do with the ministry."

"He could be much worse than that, but I'll take 'he's completely crackers' for now as a baseline we can work from if necessary." Ravenclaw Lily said. "Next order of business: what are we going to do about Sev?"

"Do about Sev?" Lily asked herselves.

"Sev _was_ dabbling in the dark arts before he snapped his wand, and although his friends John and Henry were very polite to us in the Slytherin common room, there were things they were clearly wanting to discuss, but unsure about raising with us around." Ravenclaw Lily said.

"Gryffindors don't break faith." Gryffindor Lily said. "At least they _shouldn't_. And we sort of hinted/promised things at dinner the other night, so we have to stick with him." She scowled. "That's not about _loyalty_. That's about being brave enough to keep a promise, and if we don't sort him out, who's going to do so now?"

"Well we've been nagging him about the dark arts for _months_ now, and it doesn't seem to have had much impact." Ravenclaw Lily retorted. "That approach does not appear to have been working."

"Err, can Sev even _do_ dark magic now he doesn't have a wand?" Lily raised her hand.

Ravenclaw Lily rolled her eyes.

"Wandless magic. To name but one means. He'll find a way if he _wants_ to do it. He does have _brains_. And even without a wand he can brew Merlin knows what sorts of potions which do all kinds of mischief."

"Is it the actual dark magic we should be worrying about, or the general direction he's going in?" Slytherin Lily asked. "The dark magic is just a means to whatever end he's trying to obtain, right? We need to worry about the bigger picture first, before we start to nitpick over the methods he's using to get there. Well what do we know about his goals?"

"I think the means he's using matter as much as the goals, but to keep you quiet, I'll agree to look at the goals first." Ravenclaw Lily said. "Up until now his goals that we know about have been getting the better of the Marauders and, we suspect, possibly looking to join the Dark Lord. Well; and he did talk about aiming to get the best ever NEWT potions score."

"Umm, is it just me, or now he's left school and the Marauders thing is over, and the potions thing is probably gone too – unless he can get an apprenticeship which includes a potions NEWT – doesn't that just leave You-Know-Who?" Lily looked askance at herselves.

"It does out of the goals which we know about, or _surmise_." Ravenclaw Lily said.

"Crackers. Dumbledore's absolutely crackers." Gryffindor Lily shook her head. "Unless this has all been some cover as part of a secret plan so he can get Sev to infiltrate the Death Eaters for him?" she looked hopeful.

"Don't be silly." Slytherin Lily shook her head. "That's the sort of sneaky, underhanded, behaviour you were saying just earlier that the headmaster would never engage in."

"Plus it doesn't feel right for that. Even if the headmaster _were_ sneaky, it would imply he were involved in stage-managing that scene by the lake as part of his bigger plan, and I'm certain he'd want to be at the school to handle any last minute hitches, instead of off at the Ministry, if that were his intention." Ravenclaw Lily added her opinion. "And he was definitely at the ministry yesterday afternoon and overnight. It was in the late edition of the _Daily Prophet_ this morning, with a picture of him in the Wizengamot."

"That washes out the undercover infiltration." Gryffindor Lily sighed. "Okay, Sev wants to join the Death Eaters and he's left Hogwarts for home. He lives in the middle of a non-wizarding community, which will make it harder for the Ministry to keep an eye on him covertly - that's if they think it even worthwhile to keep an eye on a wizard who snapped his own wand, unless he gets a replacement and they hear about it. It's starting to look like what he's done is pretty clever, actually." She drew in a deep breath. "Okay, let's be bold here, and think outside the box. What exactly is wrong with being a Death Eater?"

"You mean apart from the whole torture muggles and try and overthrow the government thing?" Ravenclaw Lily stared at Gryffindor Lily as if she'd just gone insane.

"I'm not comfortable with the muggle-torture thing, but the Ministry treats them as inconveniences to be obliviated out of hand anyway, and maybe the government _needs_ overthrowing." Gryffindor Lily said. "I'm playing devil's advocate here. And maybe – you know – if the Death Eater's win, they'll ease off on their excesses."

"Joining the Death Eaters means serving a crazy idiot." Slytherin Lily said. "Severus shouldn't be _serving_ anyone. Except maybe us."

"Right." Gryffindor Lily grinned. "Pleased to hear _you_ admit that." she said, and Lily wondered if Gryffindor Lily had somehow, inexplicably, managed to pull a fast one on Slytherin Lily. "I actually happen to think it's a bad idea for Severus to join the Death Eaters too, but the question is, since we're in agreement, is there anything we can do about it?"

Silence fell, and Lily and her four house counterparts looked at one another uncomfortably.

And then the straw figure in the headmaster's chair said: 'Wake up, sleepyhead, or you'll miss breakfast.' and Lily woke up in the Gryffindor girls dormitory with Mary Macdonald urgently shaking her awake.

* * *

><p>Author Notes:<p>

Lily at the moment is a mess of confused emotions, thoughts, suspicions, and doubts, and so another one of these 'dream' scenes seemed appropriate, to try and work through _some_ of what's going on in her head. Note that her principle concerns at present are the headmaster, what the heck Sev might be playing at, and what she is supposed to do about Sev? The Marauders don't even figure in her concerns right now. They're just minor distractions as far as she's concerned from the major issues.

Note that whilst the Gryffindor aspect of her currently refuses to go further than the headmaster must have had some sort of temporary mental breakdown, due to overwork, the Gryffindor aspect also feels that she's vaguely supposed to stick to that 'yes' Lily said to Severus when he put he on the spot at dinner (whatever that yes may imply) - even though she insists it's nothing to do with loyalty...

Ironically, Lily's Gryffindor aspect is also the one at this point (even though she passes it off as playing devil's advocate) most in favour of the Death Eaters. Lily's Gryffindor aspect is prepared to consider them as revolutionaries looking to overthrow a corrupt and unjust government (although the anti-muggle activities make her uncomfortable, but as she rationalises 'out loud', the ministry don't exactly treat muggles well either). The side of Dumbledore whose ruthlessness in dealing with Severus she's just seen has at least temporarily shaken her belief in the system, even if she's trying to excuse to herself Dumbledore's own personal failings and mistakes as being the results of overwork.

I'm finding writing this rather tricky at the moment, not least because of the turmoil that Lily's in, and it may be some time before the next instalment comes along. I'm not _completely_ sure myself what's going to happen next with regard to Lily...

Many thanks for the continuing reviews and attention.


	5. Not According to Plan

(Author notes added to slightly, August 2013)

Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter.

Note: This story is set in an alternate universe, shortly after the events of the fifth year 1976 defence exam, where events and several characters are starting to significantly diverge from canon. I have posted details regarding Lily's perspective of the end of her fifth year at Hogwarts separately in the one-shot titled 'Reign of the Marauders'.

This chapter deals with the period between Severus' quitting Hogwarts and the evening of the day after the Hogwarts Express returns pupils to King's Cross. Whilst much of it is from Severus' point of view, there are various sections in which Severus is not present involving Hogwarts staff members, Severus' maternal grandfather, and the Marauders...

* * *

><p>It turned out that what Severus' father had described as an 'office junior' position was in fact acting as an assistant to the works tea lady, Mrs. Blaston – a cheery widow in her late fifties.<p>

For the first half day in his new job Severus privately sulked, before realising that from a tactical point of view it was _perfect_. It gave him the opportunity to tour and observe the entire firm, in the company of an expert who not only knew who everyone was but also fascinating details about their personal lives – and who was an absolutely shameless gossip. The woman just would _not_ stop talking to people and she had some weird capability to draw intimate details out of them. And her memory for trivia when it came to members of staff regarding their personal lives, likes and dislikes when it came to beverages, and how their daily requirements might vary depending upon their mood was astonishing.

She might not know the melting temperature of mild steel, or the firm's approximate annual turnover, but she knew who the people in the firm were who _did_ know and she knew the names and hobbies of their principle family members, where they went on holiday, what their favourite sport or other entertainment was, and a torrent of other interesting facts about them, during the course of discussing which she could casually slip in practically any question and get an honest, accurate, answer.

And she had an occasionally lewd sense of humour, which Severus felt he _oughtn't_ to find funny, but which somehow still entertained him nonetheless. She was part of a generation of muggles which had taken all that Adolf Hitler and the Luftwaffe could throw at them as they tried to bomb industrial Britain to rubble, and was fond of the phrase 'mustn't grumble' – often accompanied by an anecdote about how things had been much worse during the war. She was a national treasure, and a statue of her ought to be put on plinths in public places.

If Hogwarts had had even _one_ Mrs. Blaston, Severus might have found the school tolerable and not now be plotting the ruin of wizarding Britain; but Hogwarts had had lots and lots of house-elves and no Mrs. Blastons.

But anyway, by the end of his first week, Severus was in _awe_ of the woman and just what she could do, and considered her grossly underpaid.

* * *

><p>Though Severus' mother took the news of what Severus had done hard, it had the consequence (which Severus had not foreseen) that apparently it prompted her to write to her father, Gnaeus Octavian Prince. She hadn't had any kind of contact with him in donkey's years – basically ever since she had married a muggle – but now, in her desperation and disbelief regarding Severus' quitting of Hogwarts, she turned to him as the only figure in the magical world who might be even remotely sympathetic or understanding.<p>

Seemingly as a result of this correspondence, at the end of June Severus received a 'summons' to attend his grandfather at eleven A.M. on the first Saturday in July, and Gnaeus Octavian Prince was a wizard with influence and connections that nobody – least of all an underage wizard who was his grandson – crossed lightly.

This had definitely _not_ been part of Severus' plans. His grandfather hadn't been supposed to notice what he was doing or interest himself in him. Nevertheless, there was nothing for it, but for Severus to make sure the first Saturday in July was clear, and make what preparations he considered appropriate to see the head of the Prince family.

* * *

><p>The exams were over, school was winding down towards the end of the academic year, and Albus Dumbledore was strolling on the edge of the Forbidden Forest one fine summer evening, when he happened upon Mundungus Fletcher.<p>

"Good evening, Mr. Fletcher." he cheerfully greeted him, with a knowing wink. "Trading firewhiskey to the centaurs for unicorn hair is it tonight?"

And then Albus blinked, as he felt a strange sensation as if _something_ had just happened, and Mundungus suddenly had an expression of pure terror on his face and was raving about something.

"Descent through fire… dark angel ascendant… order's last stand…" Mundungus babbled, staring at Albus. "What are you trying to _do_ to me? Is this some sort of joke, because if so, it's not one I find very funny…"

Albus tried to look Mundungus in the eyes, to get a look at his thoughts, but the man seemed too terrified of _something_ to look at him. Albus wondered if one of the elder centaurs perhaps disapproved of Mundungus' scams, and had perhaps spiked his wine with something fungal causing him to hallucinate? Yes, that was probably it, he concluded.

"I doubt the centaurs find it very funny, Mr. Fletcher." Albus said solemnly. He didn't begrudge the man his slightly shady deals – not least since they offered Albus the prospect of potential future leverage on him – but some of the younger centaurs were acquiring a taste for firewhiskey, whilst proving unable to properly handle the effects… It made them quite… well: 'frisky', was perhaps the word.

Apparently Albus' comment about centaurs and lack of levity turned out to have been the wrong thing to say to Mundungus, however, since with a small shrill shriek of terror the man turned and fled. The last thing Albus heard him say (or rather _yell_) was something most mysterious about Albus' phoenix making its mind up.

Most peculiar.

Albus gave the mental equivalent of a shrug and went on his way.

* * *

><p>The principle dwelling of Gnaeus Prince at present was a townhouse in one of the Regency crescents of the city of Bath. It had its own floo connection, which was fortunate for Severus, as it might have been rather tricky for him to otherwise travel there.<p>

The 'invitation' was for Severus only. Gnaeus apparently had no desire to see his daughter at this point, nor her husband.

Although he had to travel via a public floo at his 'home' end, Severus was careful to arrive as close to the time indicated as possible, 'punctuality being the prerogative of princes'. He was met at the floo in his grandfather's house by a couple of house-elves who showed him through the house up to his grandfather's study.

They announced him, waved him through the door, and then bowed out.

Severus barely noticed the books, globes, sextants, telescopes, piles of papers, and other accoutrements that populated the shelves and tables of his grandfather's study, as all his attention was focussed on the man sitting behind the desk with the green leather top.

"Do sit down, Severus." his grandfather indicated the chair on Severus' side of the desk, so Severus did so. Severus felt more nervous than he had done at any time since his third year at Hogwarts, when his disrespect for Albus Dumbledore had finally overcome his fear of him.

"I gather, Severus, that you made quite an effective scene, at Hogwarts." his grandfather said, fixing him with his steely grey eyes. "Snapped your own wand, accused another student of being a werewolf, and announced you were quitting the school."

"Yes, sir." Severus said, swallowing, nervously. He felt the unpleasant prickle of beads of perspiration forming under the unwavering gaze.

"A lot of people think it was quite a tantrum you threw. But it wasn't, was it, Severus? Princes bow the knee to no man or woman lightly, and you were quitting, on your own terms, whilst you still could, weren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hmmm. I suppose you think you have some scheme worked out in your mind. The world, Severus, does not care about clever schemes, least of all those of teenage boys. The wheels will likely come off at some point if they have not done so already, and whatever scheme you imagine that you have will quite likely cost you far more than you originally envisioned, if you go through with it. I am an expert schemer, Severus, and I know these things. Still, experiences are what make us who we are. You may go now, Severus. I won't bother with trying to threaten or bribe you, since if you have inherited _anything_ of the Prince blood you will be swayed by neither, but I _am_ letting let you know, here and now, that I shall be keeping an eye on your doings, as far as I am able."

And with that, Severus was dismissed.

Severus got up and left the study in a daze, and had to lean against the wall for support the moment he was out of the study and the door was firmly shut. Then, of course, he noticed the blasted house-elves were waiting there, and had to straighten himself up again.

He had _no_ idea what that had just been all about, except his grandfather telling him that he would be keeping an eye on what he was doing. The man hadn't given any hint of what he knew or guessed, nor had he offered assistance or threatened obstruction. Oh wait. He had used the family name several times. Was he considering reinstating mother into the family, or something, on account of what Severus _might_ be doing? Severus shook his head in frustration at not knowing if he had just made a potential ally or enemy…

* * *

><p>Shortly after Severus Snape had departed, Horace Slughorn arrived in the study of Gnaeus Octavian Prince, shown in by a house-elf.<p>

"So what did you think?" Horace asked anxiously.

"He certainly has backbone." the Prince patriarch said. "And he's up to some plot of his own. I remember when I was that age." he chuckled dryly. "I was going to be Supreme Mugwump and rewrite the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and do something about the uppity Americans… And look at me now, keeping my head down and having to be careful which battles I pick with _just_ Britain's magical government. You were right to be concerned, Horace, when he didn't contact you straight away regarding a potions apprenticeship. He's gone to ground in the muggle world, and that means he has plans which involve muggles or something in the muggle world. He's correct insofar as that'll be beneath the notice of most of our fellow witches and wizards. Which way do you get the impression he was leaning politically?"

"Anti-ministry, verging on a hardline stance, thanks in part to our beloved Hogwarts headmaster and a quartet of his favourite Gryffindor pupils."

"Ah, those would be the ones on account of whom he stated he was leaving." Gnaeus said thoughtfully. "Ever since the girl who was once my daughter ran off with a muggle, I have taken an interest in the muggle world and their doings, Horace. I am a major stakeholder in the company Eileen's husband works for, having acquired shares in case that should ever prove useful, and I naturally take an interest in what they do. I think I see what is in young Severus' mind, and it is a scheme of a young man to whom little matters more than dealing with an odious oppressor, by any means at all, with little care of the consequences. I could stop it like that," he snapped his fingers, "but I have no interest in doing so, since I am curious to see how far he _will_ try to go through with it – and I am more than capable of ensuring that anyone important to _me_ is well clear of any immediate fallout. You look troubled, Horace."

"I don't like to think of such a promising former pupil involved in anything _nasty_." Horace huffed. "Such things are messy, and tend to involve a demise or two or end with dementors. It embarrasses me every time I open the paper and see the latest outrage orchestrated by Riddle to think I once tutored him and did not do much to try and turn him from his path."

"You did more than some, I dare say." Gnaeus said. "I refuse to interfere directly in my grandson's schemes though, unless he intentionally opposes himself against me, Horace. All I can say is to recommend, if you're worried about him, to see that he has company, if you can. Pretty, female, company, preferably, if there has been such a thing amongst his Hogwarts friends. We Princes _are_ occasionally susceptible to romantic distractions, even if it is against our general plans and apparent interests."

* * *

><p>Following his trip to Bath Severus' life went pretty much back to normal or what passed for it these days. By mid-July, he had to admit that his plans for the wizarding world had progressed considerably less than he would have liked since the day he left Hogwarts. By now, if he had been on anything like his original timetable, he should have certain key facts at his disposal, have made useful contacts, and be preparing the all-important first letter to Gringotts.<p>

It was apparent now that he had been wildly over-optimistic in his estimates of how things would go at Bingby & Cratchettall. He had thought that his obvious intelligence would be recognised practically at once and get him placed where he needed to be. His father's name had got him _into_ the firm, but they didn't give a fig how intelligent Severus might actually be and expected him to demonstrate he was a hard-worker, capable of doing what he was told, in what – on paper – was a trivial position.

The Prince patriarch had been right. The wheels had, at least temporarily, come right off Severus' plans. It was probably going to be _months_ before he was anywhere close to being able to implement the next step.

What was strange was that he found he could actually put up with that for now. There wasn't anyone trying to kill him – or any incompetent idiot running things who played favourites. Even the odd patronising jest some older worker directed at him as he accompanied the tea-trolley was positively anodyne compared to the verbal vitriol Gryffindors, professors, or even the odd Slytherin student had thrown at him at Hogwarts. Pushing a works tea-trolley for a trivial pay-packet and listening to Mrs. Blaston all day was oddly peaceful and relaxing. He was being trained up to assist Mrs. Blaston with the catering at a couple of cricket matches due to occur over the summer. Severus Snape could wait… It wasn't as if magical Britain or his most hated enemies there were going to be going anywhere in a hurry.

The Hogwarts school year was scheduled to end today, and Lily ought to be heading back home. Severus wondered if he would see anything of her over what for her were the forthcoming holidays, or if she would be busy with plans for school in which he would have little part now that he was no longer a fellow pupil?

* * *

><p>Another Hogwarts school year was over and ten minutes out from King's Cross, as the Hogwarts Express swept through the London outskirts, Sirius Black was ambushed by one of the Black family house-elves, who went by the name of Kreacher, in one of the train's toilets. Apparently Kreacher had been lurking around on the express invisible for the past hour or so, waiting for an opportunity to get Sirius on his own. Sirius supposed he should be relieved that Kreacher had at least made his presence known as soon as Sirius had the door bolted, and not waited any longer.<p>

"Young master Black's father sends a letter by the hand of a trusted house-elf to his son." Kreacher proffered a folded parchment, sealed with a blob of green wax stamped with the Black crest and probably enchanted to hex anyone who wasn't a Black who tried to open it six different ways to Sunday. "Young master Black's father insists Kreacher follow young master Black until young master has read his words."

Any attempt by Sirius to draw his wand and hex Kreacher in such a confined space would probably not go well, although Sirius _did_ consider the possible merits of the idea for a few moments… but Sirius was sufficiently disturbed at the possibility of his father actually writing to him and that Kreacher was calling him 'young master Black' that right now a fight – even with someone as objectionable as Kreacher – was somewhat lower down his list of priorities than finding out what the hell was going on?

Sirius took the parchment, tapped the seal with his wand and muttered the Black family motto, _toujours pur_, and then broke the seal and rapidly perused the contents.

He couldn't believe what he was reading. This couldn't possibly be right.

Kreacher looked expectantly at Sirius.

"Does young master Black have any message he wishes to return to his father?" Kreacher asked.

"You can tell my father I've received his message, but I'd appreciate it if I don't have Black family house-elves hanging around me, as that could look unduly suspicious if they're discovered." Sirius desperately pulled his wits together.

Kreacher nodded, and disapparated with a sharp _crack_ sound.

This had to be a joke, Sirius told himself in a daze. This had to be a prank by Prongs or Moony or Wormtail, and they'd somehow got Reg in on this – who _was_ still a member of the Black family, and could probably set this up. Yes, that had to be the explanation…

He folded the parchment up, tucked it behind the washbasin to retrieve later, and tried to get on as calmly as possible with the purpose which he had originally intended when he entered the toilet.

* * *

><p>"Oi, you lot. Which of you was responsible for this? As a prank it's in rather poor taste."<p>

The train had terminated and Sirius had assembled his fellow Marauders on the platform at King's Cross, and stuck up a basic privacy spell. All around them swirled pupils disembarking and greeting their families or others. He produced the incriminating parchment and unfolded it.

The other three peered at it:

_Sirius, _

_Word of your recent doings has reached me, and I am simply amazed. I am unsure where to begin, so shall proceed chronologically. First of all, congratulations on acquiring a werewolf henchman, and second, even when your attempt to use him to slay the Snape half-blood failed, further congratulations are merited for persuading the headmaster that it was all a harmless prank for which you should not be punished. Those two endeavours alone make you worthy of the name of 'Black'. To be able to wrap the headmaster so far around your finger… _

_And then, even though your earlier attempt with the werewolf failed, you still succeeded in driving the half-blood stain on the honour of the ancient and worthy bloodline of the Princes out of the school anyway – and not only managed to do so, but got him to snap his wand, publically acknowledge your victory, and to lay the broken pieces of his claim to being a true wizard at the feet of your henchman! Truly, that was marvellous work. _

_And I gather that you have not rested on your victories, but have been pleased to attempt to slay the headmaster's phoenix, and a mudblood prefect of your own house too, and to once again get away with it, exerting the full extent of your influence over the headmaster… _

_Clearly your mother and I mistook your sorting into Gryffindor, for what it appeared to be, and not for a truly cunning Slytherin infiltration of the house of your enemies to win their support for your deeds. _

_You are welcome to return home, if to do so would not endanger your masquerade. I have written to Regulus making clear my renewed support for you. _

_I am truly proud to call you my son and heir. _

_Orion Black._

"Not me, Padfoot." James slowly shook his head in bewilderment.

Peter and Remus followed suit, shaking their heads in turn.

"Come off it. One of you must have got together with Regulus to set this up. Kreacher handed this to me not fifteen minutes ago. Just own up, and even though it's rather offensive, I'll let bygones be bygones." Sirius said, desperately. "You've played worse jokes on me than _this_ before… well, probably."

"I think we have to consider the possibility that it _might_ be genuine." Remus said, inspecting the seal. "None of us would connive with your brother to do _this_ to you, and the only other reasonable explanation is that it is what it appears to be."

"It can't be genuine." Sirius said. "He writes that he approves of me. He makes it out that I'm one of the sneakiest, darkest, up-and-coming Black wizards in generations. He thinks I was deliberately trying to kill Snape and Evans. Okay, well _maybe_ he's right about Snape – but that was because Snape's a general git, not because he's a half-blood – and he's certainly not right about Evans. That was an accident, I swear. The headmaster's bird was flying at me and I didn't want Trescothick taking advantage of the distraction and trying to pull anything clever on me." He stopped and shook his head. "Crap. I need to apologise to Evans, and big-time. Can anyone see her?"

The Marauders started to scan the platform for any sign of the familiar redhead Gryffindor prefect amongst the crowds of pupils, trunks, caged owls, and relatives. It was astonishing how busy the platform suddenly seemed when there was a crisis on and you needed to find someone in a hurry…

"Hey, is that her?" James pointed.

"No, it's Sheila Crabtree." Remus shook his head.

"What does she wear these days anyway?" James frowned. "When she's not in her school robes?"

"Well she's a muggle-born, so I figure she'd dress like a muggle." Remus frowned. "If you're really serious about dating her, Prongs, you really _should_ take more of an interest in her life outside of school."

"Do any of us actually even know where she lives?" Sirius asked.

"Err, no?" James said after a moment of silence from the Marauders. "I mean she's a girl – a darned attractive one, but why would we have needed to know where she lives? It's not as if we could write to her over the holidays to swap thoughts on quidditch plays, or to discuss pranking techniques."

"She's a young woman, and you could be trying to _romantically_ engage with her." Remus chastised James.

"Hey, I think I see her." Peter pointed. "There, keeping her head low, and making a beeline for the platform exit."

"You're right, Wormy." Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Good spot!" He folded the parchment, raised his voice, and cancelled the privacy spell. "Oi! Evans! I need a word with you!"

"I don't think she heard you Padfoot." James shook his head. "Try again."

"I think she _did_ hear. She seems to be going a lot faster now." Peter said. "Almost as if she's scared of you."

"Why should she be scared of me?" Sirius demanded, offended at the very notion. "She shouldn't have any reason to be afraid of me. I'm a fellow Gryffindor, and she's a prefect!"

"No reasons apart from the fact we've been pranking her the last few weeks and you put her in the infirmary with a _reducto_ and didn't stop by to apologise?" Remus raised an eyebrow.

"After her!" Sirius ordered. "She's got a trunk. If we ditch ours, we should be able to head her off before she can get off the platform."

The Marauders temporarily abandoned their own trunks and set off in pursuit. They were making good progress and were within maybe half a dozen yards of their quarry when they somehow collided with fifth year Ravenclaw prefect, Cassidy Adams, knocking her trunk from her luggage trolley, and dislodging her birdcage, causing her owl to get out – which promptly flew at James, pecking at him.

Cassidy Adams put her hands on her hips and started demanding, in her exceedingly voluble manner, that the Marauders kindly undo the damage that they had just done, and apologise to her upon the instant. Other people stopped to turn and look at this brief drama. However it had happened, it had the effect of cutting off the Marauders' pursuit of Lily Evans.

Sirius looked yearningly after Evans who was at the ticket barrier now, and about to escape into the muggle world. _She_ was dressed for the muggle world, whilst the Marauders were all in wizarding robes.

"Forget it, Sirius." Remus said to him, as Peter helped Cassidy recapture her owl, pulling it off James and getting it back into its cage. "There'll be plenty of time to catch up with her at the start of September."

* * *

><p>After dinner on the evening after the Hogwarts Express had been scheduled to return the pupils to King's Cross, Lily Evans arrived on the doorstep of the Snape household in Spinner's End. Lily had <em>changed<em>, Severus noticed as soon as she walked in through the door; some of her natural exuberance had disappeared, replaced by a wariness, and there was a darkness in the depths of her beautiful green eyes.

She exchanged a few pleasantries with his parents, accepted his mother's offer of a mug of tea, and then kicked straight on with the Hogwarts news in the kitchen of the Snape household, with Severus' parents sitting listening in.

"Everything went mad after you left, Severus." she said. "The Marauders got even bigger headed than they had been before, and started hexing a wide variety of targets and claimed that they were 'only' pranking them. Then McGonagall cracked down on Gryffindor prefects who were taking points off them for their 'pranks' – which was basically just me – and said it was on instructions from the headmaster, and that pretty much anything short of an actual crime by the Marauders was not to be punished by points loss or detention. And finally, Black – that's Sirius, not Regulus – hit me with a blasting curse one morning when Fawkes and I found him threatening the younger sister of the Slytherin prefect Ygraine Trescothick, putting me in the infirmary. It was rather confusing and Black might have been aiming anywhere, as Fawkes was going for his wand-hand at the time, but when I came to, I found the headmaster at my bedside, giving me a stern lecture about keeping my mouth shut, and indicating that there was going to be a cover-up, and not indicating in the slightest that Black would be punished."

So that was it then. She'd become collateral damage to one of the headmaster's schemes and the way she'd seen the headmaster, at first hand, preparing to handle the aftermath had pushed her over some line in the depths of her soul and changed her. Any passing annoyance Severus might have otherwise felt that it had taken _this_ to open her eyes to the headmaster's failings was overwhelmed by pity for her that _she_ had been subjected to this.

Severus' father expressed words to the effect that it sounded a good thing that Severus had quit Hogwarts when he had, and Severus' mother fussed, and had a bewildered expression on her face, saying Hogwarts hadn't been _that_ nasty in the days when she had attended. Eileen Snape was shocked at the idea that a headmaster would apparently not act to punish an attack on a prefect, irrespective whether injury of the prefect had been intended. Severus half-suspected further correspondence would be exchanged between his mother and the Prince patriarch in the near future.

Lily seemed to be paying a good deal of attention to his parents, Severus noticed, apparently trying to see what kind of people that they actually were for the first time that he could recall, and he wondered about that… Her words and opinions were guarded, and she was trying not to say or do anything which might adversely impact their opinion of her. At times she was almost Slytherin in the way she steered the ebb and flow of conversation. And then she concluded her mug of tea.

"Might I be excused borrowing your son for a bit and taking him upstairs?" Lily asked. "I have some personal messages for him from Hogwarts and some of them are rather, uhhh, 'private'?"

Severus' mother was busy twirling a quill in her fingers at this point, over a blank piece of parchment, and simply gave a vague distracted nod. Severus saw his father glance appraisingly at Lily, in her dark skirt and tight t-shirt, for a moment and Severus could have sworn he saw Tobias Snape twitch an eyebrow for just a fraction of a second and a faint smirk cross his lips, before he buried himself behind the evening newspaper with a mumbled 'go right ahead'.

Severus had no idea what his father might be imagining, but Severus doubted anything from John or Henry – which he was sure was what Lily meant – could be _that_ exciting…

* * *

><p>"How does that privacy spell go?" Lily asked Severus, once they were ensconced in his bedroom. She had her wand out. "<em>Muff<em>… something?"

"_Muffliato_." Severus said. He arched an eyebrow. "You do realise that you're underage and _not_ on school premises at the moment?"

"As far as the Ministry is concerned, the only known wand at this address now belongs to your mother, and I doubt they'll bother to investigate if they detect magic in your vicinity at this address." Lily said. "And I'm prepared to play the Gryffindor and live a little dangerously right now." She waved her wand. "_Muffliato_."

Severus sighed.

"You've got the action wrong." He moved in close to her, closed his hand over hers, and guided her through the spell.

He felt a slight thrill, in doing so, both at being actually _this_ close to Lily Evans – touching her in fact – and at coming this close to actually working a spell for the first time in weeks.

They both sensed the slight change in the air which indicated the spell was now in effect.

It was with some reluctance that Severus let go of her wand hand.

"Right. What are these private, personal, messages to me from Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Well first and foremost, this one's from _me_." Lily said, and she put her wand aside, wrapped her arms around him, and _kissed_ him, full-on, lips to lips. Severus had occasionally read, in trashy romance novels that he browsed when he was feeling particularly bored, about 'kisses burning with urgent, hungry, desire', but had up until this moment always assumed that they were inventions of authors intended to amuse their readership.

Apparently not.

Severus was vaguely aware that his cheeks were flushing, and of other sensations, as his body wanted to do _other_ things, and it was with some difficulty that he tried to hold onto a _sensible_ frame of mind when the kiss stopped, but Lily didn't, apparently wanting to repeat the kiss and to take it further, too. Considerably further.

"You're an underage witch, Lily." he hissed, trying to break apart. "This sort of thing isn't _supposed_ to happen in the magical world."

He thought of that mysterious look his father had given a few minutes earlier, and concluded that Tobias Snape was a much better judge of some things when it came to members of the opposite sex than Severus currently was.

Lily could apparently sense the flimsiness of Severus' desire to observe propriety on her account, and from the current look in her eyes was pretty determined _not_ to be dissuaded by reference to any such thing:

"I'm a teenager, and I'm in the muggle world right now where I _am_ old enough to do this – as are you – and sod the magical world's conventions. Dumbledore and everyone else screws the rules when it's convenient for them and I don't see why _I_ should play little Miss Prissy and stick by them if they're in the way of what _I_ want."

Which was an argument that Severus was a little too distracted, right now, to think of a cogent counter to, and when Lily came back, Severus surrendered himself fully to what she so obviously desired and which, to be honest with himself, he very much wanted too.

This, Severus found a few moments to spare and reflect in the midst of what followed, was most definitely Not According to Plan.

* * *

><p>Author Notes: (updated August, 2013)<p>

I'm not clear on the details of canon exam dates or the end of the Hogwarts school year, so I've assumed, in writing this chapter, that in 1976 the Hogwarts exams finished at some point in June, but that the school didn't actually break up until some point in early to mid-July.

The scene involving Albus Dumbledore and Mundungus Fletcher is entirely a piece of artistic indulgence on my part. It seemed ironically appropriate to me for Albus Dumbledore to deliver a prophecy of doom to a man who was going to promptly try and get as far away as possible, leaving Albus none the wiser of what he had just done... Since I'm not sure how in canon copies of prophecies end up in the Department of Mysteries, I'm running with the idea that they have to be reported by responsible citizens to whom they have been delivered (maybe there's a small financial reward for authentic ones). And if the citizen in question turns out not to be responsible enough to drop by to offer a memory, too bad. The consequence of this situation is that Albus Dumbledore continues to have no idea what he's potentially set in motion.

(And yes, 'descent through fire' _is_ the name of a card from the 'Balrog' expansion of a 1990's collectible card game. I'm a fan of the snappy turns of phrase used on some of those cards.)

I'm not aware of Severus' Snape's maternal grandfather being named in canon, so for the purposes of this story I've called him 'Gnaeus Octavian Prince' - Gnaeus after the Roman general Gnaeus Julius Agricola, and Octavian after the emperor. Regarding his location, International Statute or not, some wizards live in the midst of muggles (the Black family in Grimmauld Place in London are a canon example) and Gnaeus happens to have a penchant for Regency architecture...

On the topic of the platform scene at King's Cross, Cassidy Adams, the Ravenclaw prefect is a friend of Lily's, and it was entirely deliberate on her part that she got in the way of the Marauders when they were chasing Lily down the platform.

Thanks to all those who've reviewed, put this story on alert, or otherwise dropped by.

Update, August 2013:

To clarify my thinking/intent on the topic of the Prince patriarch, Gnaeus Octavian Prince has been a (never remarried) widower for at least a couple of decades in this universe, by the point that Severus is summoned to see him in this chapter. Hence my lack of references to a grandmother on the Prince side of Severus' family being around.


	6. On the Brink

(updated author notes, 1st August, 2012; Progress report, February 2013, Easter 2013; minor revisions & corrections, July 2013)

Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter.

Note: This story is set in an alternate universe, shortly after the events of the fifth year 1976 defence exam, where events and several characters are starting to significantly diverge from canon. I have separately posted a brief scene concerning the departure of Mundungus Fletcher from Britain in a one-shot titled 'Man for the Job'. Chronologically speaking, that occurs at some point in the few days between the end of the previous chapter of this story, and this one.

This chapter covers the period between Lily's arrival on the doorstep of the Snape household in Spinner's End for the first time in July 1976, and the early morning of August 11th, 1976. Although there are a number of diversions into the perspectives of characters other than Severus Snape and Lily Evans, I've tried to keep such forays at least loosely focused on the topic of the continuing repercussions of the original lakeside event.

Rating Note: I considered it necessary to upgrade the rating on this fiction to 'M', given some of the responses in reviews of the previous chapter.

Terminology Note: 'pater' is a means of address which I understand some families (often erudite or aristocratic ones) have at times adopted to address a father figure. It is, in Latin, actually a word for father.

* * *

><p>At the first opportunity she gave him to politely raise the matter, Severus had naturally offered Lily any help he could supply her in dealing with the 'Black and Marauders situation'. He doubted that there was much he could do which she might want him to do, but the point was that she was in potential danger and so he <em>had<em> to offer his assistance.

She'd gravely declined it, indicating that she had her own plans, and 'could handle that for now'.

Although efforts were not required by Lily of Severus on her own behalf against the Marauders – and Severus was naturally very pleased to see her again and renew their acquaintance in the fashion that she had chosen – her arrival back from Hogwarts had considerably complicated things for Severus in other ways, and not just in terms of what he was reasonably certain his father was saying around the workplace. Mrs. Blaston had made one seemingly off-the-cuff lewd joke in private to Severus on the subject, assessed his reaction, and apparently pigeonholed the topic as off-limits for workplace gossip – which given her position at the centre of most such, did a good deal to at least keep talk down, for which Severus was grateful. That didn't stop the smirks and knowing winks he occasionally got from his father and some of his colleagues however.

That was by the by though. Severus' original plans and designs for wizarding Britain had been coldly laid out, requiring patience and meticulous attention to detail to execute – and with a considerable period of waiting added now, as likely as not, given the unexpectedly junior position he had ended up in at Bingby & Cratchettall. Those plans had needed to come as close to the epitome of ruthless efficiency and minimal interaction with the wizarding world as possible, given that he was effectively _persona non grata_ in so many parts of it at present and anything he did within it would be watched with suspicion. The same could probably be said of his mother if she showed up in certain places, asking about certain things.

Faster-paced ideas he could have implemented had occurred to him, but they had tended to founder on the rock of his own limited ability as a wandless, underage, young man with minimal contacts or influence to get certain things done without drawing almost certain interest which he had no wish to arouse.

But now there was Lily, someone who at present was not likely to be assumed to be an automatic contact of his, who _could_ probably go to particular places in Diagon Alley, and make certain enquiries.

And Merlin help Severus, she was calling practically every evening right now and kept asking (when she wanted to take a break between _other_ things) if there was anything she could do? She'd wanted to know what options he had open to him, other than potion-brewing, without a wand? She'd found out about legilimency from somewhere, and wanted to know if he wanted to practise that? Could she go shopping in Diagon Alley for anything, such as potions ingredients, if his mother was too busy? Was there anything she could do with regard to maybe a covert purchase from Ollivanders?

On the pretext that it did give him an excuse to spend a _lot_ of time looking into her beautiful green eyes, Severus _had_ agreed to nominally 'work' on legilimency, not that he was expecting to make any great advances; there were very few known with an aptitude for legilimency in its purest, wandless, form, the Hogwarts headmaster and possibly the Prince patriarch being the only two such wizards Severus had met.

There _were_ other things he might have asked of her to assist with: for a start there were significant gaps in the rough maps he'd been making of Hogwarts as best he could from memory, some of which were areas inhabited by Gryffindors and of which Lily could be presumed to have knowledge. And, if he'd wanted to exhume one of the schemes he'd discarded because it involved too much personal interaction with other witches and wizards, there was research into something which he _could_ have pursued – knowledge almost as tantalising and beautiful as Lily herself: a dangerous secret of the Greek philosophers, not seen since a siege in Sicily in the third century BC, unless a story about Nicolas Flamel in Renaissance France was true.

If Severus had been prepared to be cold-blooded, and to put Lily unknowingly at risk in the name of bringing wizarding Britain low, there was a good deal he could have asked her to do.

He wasn't. He wasn't even sure he wanted to hint at these schemes to her, in case they repulsed her, and he lost her. It was madly irrational, and hopelessly un-Slytherin. Severus would have liked to be able to convince himself that it was because Lily was 'his' possession that he didn't want to risk her, but he knew that there was no way he would believe himself. She was and always had been gloriously her own. He would have…

Enough.

He just hoped he would be able to hold out and persist with his original plans.

* * *

><p>It was now something more than a week since school had broken up, and Albus Dumbledore was finding that things which had been going perfectly smoothly up until now were starting to go wrong.<p>

Basically, he suspected that he was being hit by the fact that a school full of pupils had gone home and were now talking to their parents well away from any capacity he might have to impact communications by ensuring owl messages were occasionally mysteriously lost or damaged.

He had originally hoped that the children would have mostly forgotten about the unpleasant scene Mr. Snape had made by the lake by the time that they went home – after all it would have been several weeks distant in their minds, replaced by fresher incidents.

Except just before school broke up there had been that foolishness involving Sirius Black and his over-enthusiastic questioning of the younger Miss Trescothick; Sirius was a natural-born auror that incident demonstrated, Albus was sure, with his instincts for finding suspects and questioning them, but sadly Miss Evans had been slightly inconvenienced in it.

To be honest, Albus had thought Miss Evans should perhaps have been grateful of a day or two of rest in the infirmary, as the exams were over and she had had a rather torrid time with Mr. Snape inflicting himself on her occasionally throughout the year – but it was understandable that she probably would have liked to rest in a time and manner of her own choosing rather than having it thrust upon her.

And the school in general certainly hadn't viewed it as a beneficial sabbatical for Miss Evans. The pupils, now back at home, were apparently spreading scurrilous gossip that Sirius had _intended_ it that Miss Evans be injured – some were even saying he'd set a trap to lure her in – and it had of course recalled to minds the earlier unfortunate scene by the lake which had also involved Mr. Black.

And the accusation that Severus had made that James and Sirius and their friends were blood-supremacists had also been half-remembered and re-emerged, to make mischief.

Albus' position with the Ministry was rock-solid. He was a war-hero, with an Order of Merlin, First Class, who had defeated Grindelwald, and they didn't care what Albus' views on blood purity were; all that they cared about was that he was on their side and doing his bit in the fight against Voldemort.

But some of Albus' friends in the Wizengamot were now indicating that they did not currently consider themselves friends, but rather more necessary allies in the face of an obvious evil, and that once the war was over they would like to have some very interesting discussions with Albus Dumbledore which would require his smoothing a good many ruffled feathers.

Albus Dumbledore was looking forward to the summer being over and getting Miss Evans and Sirius back in Hogwarts. He could make them shake hands, and indicate that there was no bad blood between them. That would be a useful start.

There was the question, too, of the replacement prefect for Remus Lupin. It was quite impossible, now that it was out in the open that Remus was a werewolf, that he could remain a prefect, even though Mr. Lupin had never so much as hurt another human being. The Ministry had insisted that there were rules and procedures to follow, and Albus had had to acquiesce to the political realities of the situation. Well, the obvious replacement for Remus, was of course his fellow Marauder, James Potter, whom Albus was certain would do all that the position required of him, and it would be good, Albus thought, for Miss Evans to spend more time in the company of Mr. Potter. She really was too strait-laced for her own good, and could do with unbending a little, and James' company, out on patrols, would do her a world of good…

And not to forget that there was a governors' meeting that he was going to have to face – and which was going to have a considerably different agenda, he suspected, from that which he had envisioned when he had originally arranged it.

* * *

><p>It was nearly the end of July, and Lily Evans was personally surprised by just how much her parents apparently <em>did<em> trust her. When she had explained on one occasion that she would be staying overnight at the Snape house, to do some astronomy work, they had taken her at her word.

Well, she did get _some_ star-gazing in, that time, but only because Severus thought it was 'romantic' and insisted on it.

She wished there was more which she could do for him. She was shamelessly taking advantage of him right now and the only thing which he apparently wanted assistance with was an attempt to master legilimency – although she rather suspected that he was rather more interested in staring meaningfully into her eyes, than in attempting to magically read her mind. But this apparent lack of interest in matters magical was too sudden and his withdrawal from the wizarding world too absolute on Sev's part, to Lily's mind. She was pretty sure by now that he _hadn't_ been broken by his Hogwarts experiences – he'd come very close to it maybe, but he was still essentially the same Sev – which meant he almost certainly had some sort of _exceptionally_ sneaky plan now in operation. She wished he'd hurry up and tell her what it was, so she could assist. God knew, she kept offering her assistance. Maybe she actually ought to _try_ to get a handle on this legilimency thing, so she could find out without his having to tell her. Otherwise it was just a matter of waiting…

One thing which _did_ puzzle Lily was that in her frequent trips to Severus' room, she had noticed he had a large collection of books with titles in a strange script which had turned out to be Gobbledegook. She'd asked Severus about them once, and he'd said he had discovered that by human standards he had a great deal in common with goblins, and found their works fascinating. He'd said it in a kind of stiff tone of voice which said he strongly hoped she'd get off the topic, and since she wasn't exactly calling around to discuss goblin sagas she'd obliged. She'd stumbled on the edge of something there though, she'd had a sense. Something goblin-related featured in whatever Severus was planning or doing; but there were things more interesting to her, right now, though, than trying to force him to disclose his secrets. Besides her own designs for trying to avoid being blown to pieces by Sirius Black next school year, she was doing her best to make sure Severus didn't wobble into the Death Eater camp. She didn't think he was quite heading in that direction right now, and she was reasonably certain that a very active relationship involving her would put Voldemort and his minions off trying to recruit Severus. She was a muggle-born after all, and Voldemort didn't think much of muggle-borns or – she hoped – of those in vigorous and intimate relationships with them.

Severus' father didn't care what was happening under his roof, and thought it apparently rather amusing what his son was doing. Severus' mother had _belatedly_ worked out what was going on, but apart from a furtive 'do you know what you're doing?' directed at Lily and a vague oblique reference to '_certain charms_' hadn't actually bothered herself to attempt to intervene.

It was weird, but good. So _very_, very, good. So extra-ordinarily…

Lily had to remind herself occasionally that there was a point to this besides her own gratuitous enjoyment.

She occasionally wondered what it would have been like if she'd been sorted into Slytherin in the first year, and been in the same house as Severus for years – but had to remind herself that Severus, as a first year, probably would have been able to do little to significantly shield her from the sentiments of the senior years, who could have made things very nasty for a muggle-born in Slytherin, she didn't doubt. Professor Slughorn, one of whose favourite pupils she'd always been might have been a potentially effective protector, but she had only ever seen him in potions, and had no idea how he operated or how much power he had in the environs of his own house. It was in any case probably best not to get too romantic about how things _might_ have gone, nor to get too distracted from her own immediate objectives.

She had no idea how things were going. It was a matter, figuratively speaking, of waiting on time and events, and hoping she didn't have to choose between what was left of a magical education on the one hand and her sanity and possibly even her life on the other. She didn't doubt, given the determined way he'd been running her down at the station, that Sirius Black had further plans for her, and they were likely to involve a good deal of pain. She'd received an owl from Cassidy Adams reporting that she'd seen Sirius, James, and their mates chasing Lily and had shoved a friendly trolley in the way to cover Lily's escape. Petunia, of course, had complained like anything about one of Lily's friends sending an owl to the Evans household. Petunia didn't like reminders like that being shoved in her face, here at home, that there was a magical world out there in which she couldn't play any part.

And Petunia _wasn't_ so trusting of her sister as Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Lily was sure her older sister suspected there was more to Lily's evening excursions 'for academic purposes' than actual study. Petunia even occasionally made snide remarks on said topic to Lily when the pair of them happened to be alone together about the house, but strangely didn't actually appear to be conveying her suspicions to their parents. Maybe she was saving it up for blackmail material, or in some weird twisted older-sister-looking-out-for-you fashion maybe she just wanted it to go on uninterrupted by her.

Lily's daydreams were disturbed by the arrival of an unfamiliar owl at her bedroom window, carrying with it a rolled up scroll.

It tapped impatiently at the glass, and she hurriedly let it in (hopefully before it could be noticed by and annoy Petunia) and retrieved the scroll. The owl promptly departed, apparently instructed not to wait around for a reply.

Lily didn't recognise the crest stamped into the blob of purple wax sealing the scroll. Judging by how busy the crest looked, with animals and weapons all over the place, it was from an old family.

She checked the scroll for magic with some special 'revealing' powder for use by those either not capable of or not supposed to use wand magic and determined that said scroll was heavily protected against interference by anyone for whom it was _not_ intended. More than that she couldn't discover.

It was addressed to _her_. If this was some prank by the Marauders – she didn't think they knew her address, but they might have found it out somehow – there could be God knew what unpleasantness designed to happen once she opened the thing.

If it wasn't a prank by the Marauders, though, it would be a good idea to open it to find out what was going on.

Lily debated what to do about the scroll before concluding it would be for the best to get Severus' opinion on it this evening, after he'd returned to his home from work.

That still seemed a bit weird to Lily every time she thought about it: Severus had a _job_ even if it was pushing around some works tea-trolley, and she was in education still – for now.

At least needing to consult with Severus about the scroll would give Lily a different reason to give her parents to go over there from the 'help with schoolwork' one she usually gave.

* * *

><p>It was one of those days where Severus Snape was absolutely exhausted. There'd been a visiting delegation from some American company today, which meant catering for an 'afternoon tea' after the usual morning works errands, and then it had been raining all the way home, which had meant two spells of being soaked punctuated by an uncomfortable intermission of sitting dripping on a corporation bus. And his father had gone home at lunchtime (when the weather had still been dry), as all but a few of the regular workers weren't needed around in the afternoon, with the visiting Americans.<p>

Oh yes, and to cap it all, one of the representatives of the company's British stockholders, who'd been in attendance at the afternoon gathering, had been a squib, Severus was sure, from an office which represented wizards with interests in the non-magical world. If the squib had known who Severus was, he hadn't shown any signs of it though, and Severus had his name now (and some other details) in case he ever needed to pursue research into the man.

After dinner, predictably Lily turned up, and Severus had no idea how he was going to face what _she_ probably wanted, given how tired he was feeling right now.

She surprised him, however, once they were secure in his bedroom, by producing a scroll.

"Do you know who might have sent this to me?" she asked, looking slightly worried. "I didn't recognise the owl, and I don't recognise the crest on the seal."

"It's unlikely I will unless it was from one of the prominent families with children in Slytherin, or a family or organisation which are major players in the wizarding world." Severus said, and took the scroll, feeling the faint tension of inimical magic as he did so, since _he_ was not the one to whom it was addressed. He turned it over and froze as he saw the seal.

"Lily. Why is my grandfather writing to you?" he asked.

"Who?"

"Gnaeus Octavian Prince. That's his personal seal."

Severus hastily pushed the scroll back to her. He had no intention of holding it any longer than strictly necessary, given it was _not_ addressed to him. Merlin alone knew what steps his grandfather _might_ take to ensure his mail arrived in the hands of solely those for whom it was intended.

"I've no idea. I've never heard of him until now. I don't think you've ever mentioned him to me."

"He's my maternal grandfather. The one who cut my mother off without a penny and renounced her as his daughter after she married my father. I've only ever knowingly met him _once_."

"Oh." said Lily, looking uncertain now. "Should I open it? Will it be safe?"

"You're better off knowing what he wants rather than just trying to ignore it. From what I've heard about him, he doesn't bother with assassination attempts of his _intended_ correspondents by mail, although random snoopers might be fair game. He prefers to bury his known enemies politically."

Lily bit her lip then used her thumb to break the seal and opened the scroll. She looked at it and frowned, then looked up. Apparently it was short and concise.

"What do you think?" she asked, showing it to Severus:

_Dear Miss Evans, _

_You are politely requested to join me for breakfast at eight A.M., British Summer Time, on the morning of Wednesday the 11__th__ of August, at my residence in Bath. The son of Tobias Snape, with whom you are acquainted, is familiar with the means by which you may contact me and your travel options. No guests or companions are expected._

_Gnaeus Octavian Prince._

"'Politely requested' means that he will get rather _impolite_ if you don't show up without a good reason. I have no idea why he's picked that time or day. It could signify something; then again it could just be the first mutually convenient slot he thought would come up in both your calendars. 'No guests or companions are expected' means he expects it to be one-on-one, with just him and you and maybe the occasional house-elf in the room." Severus analysed.

"What does he want to see me for?" Lily asked.

"I don't know." Severus said. "As I said I've only ever knowingly met him just the once, and that was last month when he summoned me to discuss the circumstances in which I left Hogwarts. For all that I know, he may have heard about how talented you are at potions…" he hesitated. "Although it's more likely, I admit, he's somehow heard that I'm one of your friends and wants to speak with you because of that."

"Is it good that you're one of my friends? Bad? What's he likely to do or say?" Lily probed, looking slightly worried. "Is he anti-muggle or is he a crazy blood-purist?"

"I don't know, Lily. I don't know much about him beyond that he's moderately wealthy, and although not in Dumbledore's league in terms of overt political power and influence, he can look after himself. If he has any prejudices he's too pragmatic to let them interfere with day-to-day business. He's been known to entertain important centaurs to dinner, and I think he once invited the muggle prime-minister of the day to afternoon tea. I think what happened between him and my mother was as much about family pride and my father being a muggle _factory worker_ as anything else. I don't think he'd have minded so much if my father had been a millionaire or a duke."

"Is he likely to think I'm inappropriate company for you?" Lily frowned.

"I have no idea, Lily. Since as far as he's concerned, my mother ceased to be his daughter when she married, I'm not his grandson, and I don't see why he would bother about what social status you may or may not have."

Lily screwed up her face for a few moments, and seemed to be thinking about this, then shrugged and put the scroll aside.

"Oh well, I suppose I'll just have to turn up and see what he wants. And at least if it _is_ 'hands off my grandson, you muggle-born wench' that's good news for your prospects and we've still got a fortnight to go before then. On which note…"

Severus inwardly groaned, and hoped that he was going to be up to this. Lily could be a demandingly hard taskmistress at times…

* * *

><p>"James. I need a word with you."<p>

It was the first of August and James Potter's pater had interrupted James Potter's leisurely late-morning breakfast with Sirius Black, and the usual start-of-month holiday ritual of flicking marmalade at one another across the table. The house-elves always cleared it up, no matter how much of a mess they made.

Pater's face was serious, James was disturbed to note, not the usual, easy-going, indulgent smile he had during the holidays.

"At once, sir?" James asked.

"No, ten minutes time, in my study, will do just fine." James' father said. He headed out the door.

"Looks like we'll have to cut short the great marmalade battle for once, Prongs." Sirius said. He inspected himself and looked at James. "I'd go so far as to say, it looks like I'm _slightly_ ahead on points, but in the interest of whatever world event it is that means your father actually requires your time, I'm prepared to shake on it and call it a draw if you will."

"Actually, I'd say that my father's intervention has almost certainly saved _you_ from a beating, but I'm prepared to shake on it and call it a draw, too, Padfoot." James sighed. "Now if you'll excuse me, but I'd better go and clean myself up."

* * *

><p>"Someone, James, is making trouble in the Wizengamot." the Potter <em>pater familias<em> addressed James twenty minutes later in his study. It was a measure of how bad things were that he'd actually taken a minute to lecture James for arriving late after James got distracted by a quidditch report in today's edition of _The Daily Prophet_. "It seems likely to be the Black family behind it, which would be typical of Sirius' relatives generally. Whomever it is, is making out that not even Albus Dumbledore, the supposed champion of muggle and muggle-born rights, actually cares about them _that_ much, and the actions of you and your friends are being cited as supporting evidence."

"I don't understand sir." James said.

"James. There are whispers going around that the headmaster asked you personally to 'take down Miss Evans a notch or two', and 'to make it clear that if she won't knuckle down and accept she's barely good enough to be a servant in our society that she's going to be leaving Hogwarts one way or another'. Besides the story about Sirius putting her in the infirmary with a blasting spell, it's being said that you and your friends chased her down the platform at King's Cross at the end of term, wands drawn, and shouting things such as 'tally ho' and 'head her off' to one another as if it were all a game."

Had they had their wands drawn? James couldn't remember. He was _pretty_ sure that they hadn't actually shouted 'tally ho', but someone might have said something about heading Lily off.

"Those sound like exaggerations of the facts to me, sir." James said.

"James. What I would have _wanted_ to hear at this moment is that they had no basis in facts whatsoever." pater said, looking disapproving. "Somehow, you and your friends have come to the attention of unscrupulous witches and wizards whose intentions are _not_ aligned with those of Albus Dumbledore, and they are using your actions to damage the Hogwarts headmaster, politically. Even if he's too kind and respectful to you to say it himself, what you do reflects on him, and so you need to be careful."

"Well he should be proud of us: we managed to drive Snivellus – err, that's Severus Snape – who was one of the worst of the Slytherins out of the school. Snivellus even made a speech saying what worthy opponents we'd been, and how he'd been completely in the wrong." James said. "We have got some _good_ things done, which will reflect on the headmaster well."

"James. The manner in which Mr. Snape spoke and departed is being portrayed in some quarters as having made him seem the victim of four arrogant, ignorant, self-aggrandising bullies. Ordinarily, it wouldn't have mattered very much, but it is unfortunately being used for their own ends by those painting the headmaster as someone who considers muggle-borns on a par with house-elves. Whilst Albus doesn't consider it necessary, I have been trying to locate Mr. Snape and to offer some kind of apology or compensation, but unfortunately he lives somewhere in the muggle world which I am currently unable to discover and his only magical relative whose location I _am_ aware of is Gnaeus Prince."

"Well if you know where _he_ is…"

"James. Gnaeus Prince cut his daughter, Mr. Snape's mother, off and threw her out of the family home after she married a muggle. I doubt, very much, that Gnaeus is interested in or knows where Mr. Snape can be found, and even if he _does_, he and I do not exactly see eye-to-eye. He considers my association with Albus Dumbledore to render me untrustworthy, for some reason, and will scarcely give me the time of day."

"Snivellus' mother was part of the _Prince_ family? But she was thrown out because she married a muggle?" James stared at his father as if he'd grown an extra-head. "But Snivellus never mentioned that. It certainly wasn't known around the school." James was torn between unexpected mild sympathy for Snivellus and strong indignation at the missed opportunity for all the really _excellent_ pranks based on those facts that he _could_ have played, had he known.

"James. It's becoming rapidly apparent that I've let you live too sheltered a life up until now, and that you're much _too_ politically naïve in some senses." James' father was pinching his nose now, a sign of mild stress. "I can see I'm going to have to arrange a crash-course in politics for you, over what's left of the summer. Your friend, Sirius, will be able to accompany you if he so wishes."

"But political skulduggery is the sort of thing that slimy _Slytherins_ engage in." James protested. "And I'm a Gryffindor."

"Slytherins may be some of the most _adept_ political operators, James, but it does a man good to know _something_ about the weapons that his enemies may employ."

Pater was pinching his nose again, and screwing up his face in an odd manner. It was clear to James that his protests against this were going to get nowhere and were in fact upsetting his father in some inexplicable way.

"Very well then, pater, I shall do my best to learn what you think it needful that I do." James said, trying his best to play the dutiful son for ten minutes. Hopefully this wouldn't impact too severely his time given the plans which he and Padfoot wanted to draw up, to prank the Slytherins (Avery and Mulciber especially) to the point of insanity, come September. Or his chance to re-evaluate the situation regarding Lily Evans. Remus had had a point, James had to concede, in suggesting that James should maybe write to her outside of school time. He would have to try and find out her address once school resumed.

* * *

><p>Remus Lupin usually slept better during the period of the waning moon, but right now his dreams were haunted by the face of fellow Gryffindor prefect, Lily Evans, as he and the Marauders chased her down the platform at King's Cross.<p>

The look on her face had been one of fear and disgust, but there had been something else lurking in her eyes too – a gritty resolve Remus didn't usually associate with Lily Evans.

Sometimes the beasts of the forest seemed to sense disasters such as fires, floods, or earthquakes ahead of any visible signs, and right now Remus' inner wolf was howling out at him that something cataclysmic was coming, which he and his fellow Marauders had set in motion. It seemed highly _unlikely_ that Lily could be directly involved – she was so easy-going – but there was always the brooding figure of Severus Snape lurking at the back of Remus Lupin's mind these days. Snape had been unusually protective of Lily when he _had_ been at Hogwarts, Remus had noticed. The Marauders might be the most famous and successful pranksters in Hogwarts in recent memory, but they were by no means the only ones, and the malice towards muggle-borns that some of the Marauders' Slytherin counterparts were capable of showing had noticeably waned towards Lily as Snape had risen through the school. And Snape might now be out of Hogwarts and unquestionably wandless (at James' insistence Remus had held onto the pieces of Snape's wand as a trophy, wrapped in a black silk handkerchief which he kept at the bottom of his school trunk) but he still had recourse to a potion brewer's arts.

Remus occasionally wondered why Severus Snape had never simply poisoned all the Marauders in their beds at Hogwarts? If anyone could have brewed something lethal and undetectable it would have been Snape, Remus was sure.

And Lily Evans could probably contact Snape, Remus felt. They _had_ been friends. She would have an address to mail him, and if the Snapes were a household with a muggle telephone (Remus was sure there was at least some muggle blood in Severus' family in recent generations, given that Snape was not a known name of any wizarding family and the way pure-blood Slytherins had treated Severus) Lily probably knew how to contact Snape that way too.

Severus Snape, hearing tales of how Lily had been accidentally injured by Sirius, might well become vengeful, and come after the Marauders, from an angle which none of them were expecting. Remus had an unpleasant suspicion that it didn't matter that Snape wasn't at Hogwarts any more if such a day came. That just meant that he was somewhere, out there, that the Marauders had no ability to monitor at all. At least if Snape had still been at Hogwarts they could have tracked him with their map.

Remus _had_ been attempting to uncover Lily's address, so he could owl her, but so far those of her friends whom he knew were proving uncooperative in this regard. The replies they were sending back could be politely expressed as 'get knotted', and they had closed ranks protectively about her. Remus' Marauder reputation was working against him in that quarter. There was no way Lily's friends were going to give Lily's address to someone who as far as they were concerned might prank her by owl, or pass it on to his friend, Sirius Black, so he could make another attempt to kill or injure her.

* * *

><p>It was the evening of the second Sunday in August, when Horace Slughorn could take no more of this not knowing, and took himself off to Spinner's End. Albus was busy worrying about some sort of political trouble in the Wizengamot and upheavaldelays involving this year's exam results, and unlikely to be paying too much attention to what the Hogwarts potions master was doing right now, in the middle of the holidays – and if he _did_ ask where Horace had been, then Horace could always invent something about going to see one of his old pupils from a decade or two ago. Actually, come to think of it, Severus' mother, Eileen, probably _had_ been a former pupil. He certainly remembered some things about her time at Hogwarts.

Horace experienced some difficulty in finding the Snape residence, however, because of the large number of wards piled on the building, intended to keep adult witches and wizards away. Eileen being married to a muggle probably made her wary of Death Eaters wanting to discuss her potential blood-traitor status, or maybe – Horace had to face the unsavoury possibility – she was worried about visits from Hogwarts staff.

Eventually he made it to the front door, adjusted his cravat, and proceeded to knock.

A short while later Eileen opened the door a crack. She had her wand out.

"I know who you _look_ like, but who are you, can you prove it, and what do you want?" she demanded.

"It's me, Eileen: Professor Horace Slughorn. Or at least if I'm not, then I'm someone who knows about the incident with the pot of raspberry jam, three baguettes, and a couple of quidditch seekers from other houses in your seventh year. And I'm here because I _was_ your son's head of house, and since it's the holidays, I thought I'd call by and check he's alright."

"Swear on your magic that you're not here on the instructions of, subtle 'hints' from, or otherwise taking directions from another witch or wizard."

Eileen was being absolutely paranoid about security for some reason.

Horace obliged, swearing that to the best of his knowledge, he was not knowingly here on an errand, mission, or otherwise on the orders of another witch or wizard.

She called out something to someone else in the house, then finally she let him in.

Horace was not unaccustomed to making odd home visits to the families of students, and the Snape household was definitely at the poorer end of the scale of such families. Although this was his first actual visit here, Horace had become uncomfortably aware that this was likely the situation of the Snapes during Severus' years at Hogwarts, but any favours or special treatment he might usually have showed, as a considerate head of house, for a student from such a background had had to be foregone on the orders of Albus Dumbledore, once it was clear that Severus was repeatedly clashing with the headmaster's favourite Gryffindors.

Honestly, Horace was sick half to death of this politics, and was starting to think about retiring. Life at Hogwarts was so very comfortable and convenient for him, and yet he wasn't sure he wanted another decade of this if Albus didn't snap out of it once, say, the Marauders were gone.

Basically, the house in Spinner's End, was a working-class muggle residence, rather meanly furnished. Horace wasn't sure why Eileen didn't use magic to brighten the place up, but maybe she was worried about risking the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, or maybe her husband was left feeling uncomfortable by unnecessary use of magic.

"We've had a couple of aurors known to owe favours to the Hogwarts headmaster, Lucius Malfoy, and some squib detective whom I gather is commonly on retainer from the Potter family all asking questions around the neighbourhood since the start of the month." Eileen spat, as Horace settled himself in the least threadbare chair available in the sitting room.

"Ah." said Horace, nodding sympathetically. "None of whom might be interpreted as necessarily friendly." He hesitated a moment. "Severus _is_ in, isn't he? I gather that he's a working lad now, but I had hoped to find him in since it's the weekend? Although since I have nothing else on, I can wait as long as need be."

"He's in but he's busy at the moment." Eileen seemed distracted for some reason. "He'll be with you presently. Tobias has gone to let him know you're here." She twisted the fingers of the hand which wasn't holding her wand. "He tends to be busy most evenings right now."

A large man with the hands of a manual worker entered the room, whom Horace presumed was Severus' father, Tobias. Horace instinctively got out of the chair and went forward offering his hand, relieved that he had dressed relatively smartly for the occasion.

"Professor Horace Slughorn, Severus' former head of house." Horace introduced himself. "I deeply regret that the headmaster and I were unable to see eye to eye over the behaviour of some of the pupils in other houses." He felt it essential to explain he'd gone as far as he was able.

"Nobs often look out for one another." the other man grunted, apparently meaning the headmaster and his favourite pupils, if Horace understood him correctly. "If they're not brought up right, they end up worse-than-useless parasites. If too many of them turn out like that, the only way to clear them out ends up a revolution."

He eyed Horace's hand for a few moments then shrugged and to Horace's relief shook it.

"Tobias Snape. I gather you're something like a brewer." Tobias said. He said it in a manner which suggested that at least he didn't consider that profession a complete waste of time.

"Something like that." Horace agreed. "In fact I have been known to make the occasional not altogether indifferent primrose wine, or sloe gin." he searched for activities Tobias might be able to understand.

Tobias made a non-committal noise and sat down. He gave Eileen a meaningful look, and she put away the wand and headed out of the room, saying something about a pot of tea.

The two men eyed one another warily in silence.

* * *

><p>Presently, Eileen returned with a mug of tea for Tobias, and then another one for Horace. She disappeared into the kitchen again, and returned with biscuits.<p>

Horace searched his memory for a likely ice-breaker, and came up with the names of a couple of squib contacts he had, who'd become involved with muggle football clubs. He floated their names, and Tobias responded. Apparently he liked and approved of football.

The minutes passed.

There was a sound from upstairs, and Severus appeared, looking flushed, and for some reason with his clothes slightly askew, but Horace was relieved to see that at least the desperate, practically feral, look that Severus had had over a month ago seemed to be gone. A break away from Hogwarts and the Marauders – accompanied presumably by the knowledge he wouldn't be going back to it – seemed to have worked wonders, although Horace was _somewhat_ surprised at the speed of the turn around.

Then, to Horace's surprise, Miss Evans appeared behind Severus, looking somewhat flushed and sweaty, too, and with signs of having apparently dressed in haste.

"Err, Severus was helping me with some homework." Lily said, colouring slightly. She was a good potions student and quite charming, but an absolutely rotten liar, Horace thought. "If you wouldn't mention this to anyone, please, since I know I could get in trouble if anyone at Hogwarts heard I was seeing Severus for help?"

Horace Slughorn harrumphed. Further things became clear to him.

"So long as any of your schoolwork is at least half original to yourself, Miss Evans, I see no reason to raise any fuss over whom you turn to whilst away from Hogwarts for assistance with anything."

Lily looked relieved.

Eileen brought further mugs of tea, and the situation became awkward. It was evident to Horace that he'd interrupted some sort of vigorous activity – which went a good way beyond mere kissing – between Severus and Miss Evans. He recalled Eileen's awkward mention of 'busy most evenings' and inferred that this was a regular occurrence.

Oh well, at least this was mischief at the relatively harmless end of the scale of such things, and Horace was reasonably certain that Tom Riddle was less likely to come recruiting for someone who was bonking a muggle-born senseless every holiday.

He confined himself to making some polite enquiries regarding Severus' current position and prospects, and once more offering assistance in terms of recommendations which Severus stiffly declined. Horace wasn't quite sure how to read that. Clearly the lad wanted to stay as much out of the wizarding world (with the exception of contact with Miss Evans) as possible right now but he wasn't sure if that was motivated by a simple detestation for the society and those who ran it, or a need for secrecy whilst he plotted some stroke of revenge. Horace inwardly sighed and didn't press the issue. He made a mental note to continue to check up on this situation when possible, however – although it wouldn't do to let Albus know about Horace's ongoing vague concerns, as the Hogwarts headmaster had already made Severus' life quite difficult enough already. And at least Miss Evans was an influence at present on Severus of which Horace thoroughly approved.

Which thought reminded Horace of the unpleasantness _she'd_ suffered at the hands of Black at the end of term, and he accordingly made a few appropriate noises expressing his gratitude since she _had_ intervened on behalf of a Slytherin student. He added that if she was having any difficulties next year, she could drop by his office to discuss them. He even went as far as he could to a student from another house, in promising to listen favourably to her if any 'problems' arose with Slytherin students. He _was_ aware after all that some of his Slytherins didn't look entirely favourably on those with her own family background.

She made the appropriate appreciative responses, but Horace's social antennae were minutely disturbed by something being clearly not quite right with Miss Evans, with regard to the prospect of Hogwarts and the next school year. It was almost as if she was seriously considering not attending – which would be a great loss given how well Horace knew from his contacts (the OWL results had not yet been formally released) that she'd provisionally done in his own subject.

Horace did his best to reassure her regarding members of his own house.

"I'm not so concerned about Slytherins, Sir." Miss Evans said in response.

The way she said it, whether she'd intended to or not, she'd strongly implied that it was members of her own house that were worrying her. Horace reviewed the situation rapidly, and found it disturbing that she was seemingly more worried about a likely four Marauders than she was about the idiots in his own house who targeted many muggle-borns in the school for unpleasant pranks. What was Minerva letting go on in Gryffindor that the Marauders could seem scarier to a Gryffindor than his own problem students? Then again, at least his Slytherins hadn't driven Miss Evans' friend, Severus Snape, out of Hogwarts, nor did they go around throwing _reducto_ spells at their targets… Well, at least not on the latter count whilst they were still pupils at Hogwarts, and he did his best, but some of Albus' policies didn't exactly help when it came to their career choices once they _left_ Hogwarts.

Horace politely thanked Tobias and Eileen for their hospitality, mentioned he'd try to remember to bring a 'bottle of something' next time that he called (thus hinting that he might well do so again at some point in the near future) and with a friendly word to Lily and Severus made his excuses and left. Really, they did look a charming young couple. Ah, young love…

* * *

><p>Lily Potter was in a boarding house in Blackpool for some reason, involving her husband James (who had had very few to start off with) losing what good qualities he did have, and wanting to hide, amongst muggles, in a seaside town on Morecombe Bay. They were encumbered in this by the small mini James-Potter clone, James junior, and by Albus Dumbledore's insistence that it was actually a good idea to hide, although he wouldn't explain why or why it had to be in this place of all places. And apparently it was okay for James' friends to drop by and use magic as much as they wanted, even though Lily and James weren't supposed to do so.<p>

And the weather was perpetually grey, and when James wasn't teaching his clone to spell 'Silly Lily' he was either putting him on a broomstick or wandering off to a pub with his mates.

One evening, just as Lily was finally about to crack and try to throttle James, a wizard in dark robes burst in, wand raised.

"I am the Dark Lord, and your friends talked too much in the pub, James." Voldemort (unless it was some other 'Dark Lord') laughed. "Now I shall murder your wife so your son will have no choice but to worship Dumbledore!" For some reason Voldemort was pointing his wand at Lily, and just as she was opening her mouth to protest that she would _never_ marry an idiot like James Potter, despite the fact that she quite clearly had, the ceiling partially collapsed, and the badly mutilated corpse of Severus dropped out of it in a shower of plaster and dust. And both James and Voldemort exchanged glances and simultaneously _cackled_, and fortunately, at that point there was a ringing sound and Lily woke up.

What a God-awful nightmare. That was the worst so far this week. It was probably stress or something. This one was enough to have her feeling physically sick _without_ other complicating factors.

She reached for the alarm clock, switching it off, meaning to get another quarter of an hour's sleep, before recalling that it was the morning of Wednesday, the 11th of August, and that she had an appointment to keep. She'd written back nicely on parchment, borrowing an owl to send it, confirming she'd be there…

* * *

><p>Flaws were speedily becoming apparent in the scheme which she had formulated, Lily thought, still feeling somewhat nauseous as she trudged across town to use the public-floo a short while later. Unfortunately, some of the things which she had been <em>trying<em> to set in motion were now actually in motion, and her options for backing out were suddenly rather limited. She was going to have to make her mind up soon about whether to contact the school or not.

Oh, and there was going to be the whole discussing-this-with-her-parents thing, which was looking a _lot_ more intimidating now that it was a looming problem rather than a theoretical possibility.

Plus there was the whole weird Prince family/social-etiquette situation which she couldn't quite wrap her head around. Apparently neither Sev's mother nor Sev himself were actually considered related to Gnaeus in any way or at least not unless the latter specifically said so. Sev had instructed Lily on her trip to see him last night that on no account whatsoever should she imply any relationship between Severus and the Prince patriarch unless Gnaeus categorically stated that such a thing existed, and that it was probably best not to mention Severus' mother at all.

Lily arrived at the public floo, stepped in, muttering the destination Sev had told her, and emerged at the other end bent double and retching. She wasn't a good floo traveller at the best of times, and given how she was feeling right now…

A couple of house-elves were on hand, too. One of them wordlessly set about cleaning up, whilst the other led her along a corridor, up a staircase, and across a landing into a dining-room with a view out over the city of Bath.

Lily's impression of Gnaeus Octavian Prince was that he looked like how a wizard _ought_ to appear, only without a hat or beard. He looked old and wise and terrible and powerful. This wasn't just another person who happened to have a wand who might in theory be able to transfigure you into a frog if you annoyed him.

"Good morning Miss Evans. You look a little peaky." he observed, rising from a place at a table set for two, to come forward and informally kiss her hand.

Oh God, she thought as he looked up, with those steely grey _eyes_ which seemed as if they could look right through her.

"Not a good floo traveller. Sorry, I made a bit of a mess, and I'm afraid one of your elves had to busy himself with clearing it up. I'll be alright in a bit."

She _hoped_ she would.

"Something to settle my guest's stomach." Gnaeus directed the house-elf which had accompanied Lily and it bowed and headed out. "Please, be seated." He gestured. "You are a little early."

Lily was ten minutes early, she reckoned, but she hadn't wanted to make a bad impression by possibly being late.

She sat at the table, at the only place set other than Gnaeus' own. It was a large round table, veneered with highly polished walnut. She could sort of make out the shadowy reflection of her own face in it, if she looked hard enough. The cutlery looked to be silver, although she couldn't tell without handling it if it was only plate or solid. Still, the handles were highly ornately patterned, shaped in a design of leaves and shells.

There were various other smaller tables arranged around the room, with potted plants upon them, a tapestry on one wall of some winged giant squid creature doing battle with an old man in a flying chariot (whilst hordes of creatures she couldn't identify flew around), and several multi-armed silver candelabra. There were a series of old pictures of men and women hung on the walls, which seemed to be conventional rather than magical portraits, a large marble fireplace (currently with no fire in) and a series of obsidian statues and figurines arranged on the mantelpiece.

Was this what the dining rooms of all wealthy witches and wizards looked like, Lily wondered? It looked strangely like a stately home, excluding the weird tapestry, but then again some muggle stately homes probably went in for decorations featuring heroes battling monsters.

"The carpet is late nineteenth century, and was produced on what was at the time one of the most sophisticated looms in the industrial world. It was made in a factory in this country powered by a huge 'mill-engine'." Gnaeus turned her attention to the red floor covering. It looked in surprisingly good condition given its purported antiquity, and she figured magical repair must be involved. "The Princes, Miss Evans, have always been _patrons_ of inventions in the muggle world, where such things were obviously profitable. Sometimes, more or less appropriately, they have patronised other things."

Was that a coded reference to Severus' mother marrying a muggle, Lily wondered? If so what was she supposed to say to it?

She was spared the need to answer by the return of the house-elf Gnaeus had sent, bearing a tray with a goblet that contained a fizzing green liquid.

Lily didn't recognise the contents, but Severus had told her that Gnaeus wouldn't try to poison a guest in his own house, so she took it and gingerly sipped it. It had a strange minty taste, and she immediately felt _much_ better. She put the goblet down.

"Ah, good, I thought that might work." Gnaeus could see it, too. "How would you feel about a little breakfast now?"

* * *

><p>Breakfast seemed to be never-ending, which was just as well given how hungry Lily felt, now that her stomach was settled. Gnaeus occasionally questioned her about seemingly random things about friends in Gryffindor, favourite teachers, the defence against the dark arts teachers at Hogwarts these days, and only once about her fellow prefect, Remus Lupin. That took her off-guard, and as she stumbled and stammered for an answer, he waved her attempt to string a sentence together aside. "No need, Miss Evans. Your reaction to the question speaks far more than I could hope for you to explain in several dozen words."<p>

And he spent the rest of the meal making light but highly interesting conversation about a year he'd spent in his youth in Central America, talking to descendents of the Mayan sorcerers of old, and watching what happened when trees fell in the rain-forest.

Eventually, breakfast wound to an end and they sat there sipping tea, as the house-elves cleared away the plates and remaining dishes. Once the room was quite empty of house-elves, Gnaeus turned his attention on Lily, suddenly the powerful, nearly all-seeing wizard again, rather than the genial host he'd gradually seemed to transform into over breakfast.

"There remains one matter, Miss Evans, of which I am curious: At what point were you planning to discuss baby names with Severus Snape?"

Lily froze, panicking, and wondering what he knew, and how he knew it, and where exactly this was going to go?

"Miss Evans." the Prince patriarch continued. "I recognise morning sickness when I see it, Eileen Snape has informed me by owl correspondence of just how often you appear to be calling at the Snape household, as of the evenings of late, and I'm reasonably certain you're aware of the fact that expectant mothers are _not_ part of the Hogwarts scenery for a variety of reasons – and that 'alternative arrangements' are often made for the continued education of young women when such circumstances arise. I am also informed of the less than pleasant circumstances you experienced a month or so ago at the end of the last school year and I am _more_ than capable of doing simple arithmancy, I assure you, Miss Evans…"

"Uhh, I hadn't given much thought to that, sir. I mean discussing baby names with your…" She froze and stopped herself just in time, then desperately tried to think of something she could finish with which would not entirely be putting her foot in it. "With, uh, your protégé?"

The Prince patriarch snorted in amusement.

"Severus Snape is not exactly my protégé Miss Evans." He knew bloody well, Lily could see, that she had been about to say 'grandson'. He was also apparently pleased that she had known enough and managed to stop herself short of saying the fatal word. "And at risk of stating the obvious, the sooner you deal with certain things, the longer you have to deal with any complications or other difficulties which may arise within the framework of the deadlines which you and nature have now imposed upon yourself."

* * *

><p>Author Notes:<p>

Despite Dumbledore's fond belief that his political troubles are purely matters of circumstance, and originating with the Blacks, he is in fact under a political assault from Gnaeus Octavian Prince who's spotted an opportunity to damage Dumbledore in the long-term. Things are shortly likely to get even stickier for Dumbledore.

As regards the Lily I've tried to portray, she may be good at potions (and if a wand which 'chooses the witch or wizard' is an indicator of ability, good with charms too), yet she isn't a genius, but a teenage girl who was somewhat shaken up by being blasted by Sirius towards the end of term and who has discovered that trusted authority figures had failings. (She's not _completely_ disillusioned with them yet, and still making excuses internally for them to some degree.) She's spent her time at Hogwarts in Gryffindor, a house which canonically seems to encourage an act first, think later, approach. The plan she's tried to cook up (objectives: keep Severus away from Voldemort, stay out of Hogwarts but continue magical education) is somewhat naive but she sincerely _meant_ well when she thought it up and proceeded to undertake to execute it.

Not much is said in canon about Severus' father. The version I'm trying to depict here doesn't have a very high opinion of many of the rich and powerful (or at least not those born into privilege), although I've tried to keep in mind that he's someone who _did_ marry what was effectively an aristocrat's daughter (even if her father disinherited her for the marriage). I suspect it's not so much a perception of social class as not ever doing an honest day's hard work that really annoys him. (Doing stuff by waving a wand and saying a few magic words at a problem almost certainly doesn't count as honest hard work in his world view.)

Update:

The wards Eileen (Snape) has in place on the Snape house in Spinner's End are designed to keep adult witches and wizards out (ones of malign or less-than-benevolent intentions in particular, which was why Horace Slughorn, who meant well, was able to eventually get through) but not underage ones so they do not currently hamper Severus or Lily.

Update: Progress report, February 2013

Last chapter main chapter expected July 2013 - or possibly sooner if distractions are lacking. Going has been slow since whilst I had some idea roughly what was going to happen back in August 2012, I had no idea how to write it, and I had a feeling some elements necessary to the chapter were missing altogether. I now have approximately everything assembled, and it's just a matter of getting it all written down, juggled into the right order, and polished up. A third and final supporting piece concerning Lucius Malfoy will be posted at some point before July.

Update: Easter, 2013

Ahead of my expected schedule, the Lucius Malfoy supplementary piece is now out, titled 'In Pursuit of Princes'. An ongoing process of re-reading material and making corrections of the past month or so really helped move this supplementary piece forward. Date on last main chapter of this story currently still assumed to be July, to be on the safe side.

I adjusted a slight detail regarding Lily's immediate actions when she receives the scroll by owl which (subsequently) turns out to be from Gnaeus Octavian Prince. I inserted a mention of a special 'revealing powder' which Lily uses to check the scroll for magic. I had originally overlooked that being a witch in a muggle household, Lily would be precluded from wand usage except in an emergency, unless she wanted to attract attention. Using the powder on an object (but not a liquid) probably generates an effect similar to that of 'Scarpin's Revelaspell' (_specialis revelio_). If there isn't actually any such powder in canon, maybe it's something Lily and/or Severus cooked up in potions classes at Hogwarts...

As a teaser, a draft of the opening few lines of the last chapter:

'_Mr. Garrick Ollivander of Diagon Alley is a wandmaker. Some wandmakers make wands to earn a living, but Garrick Ollivander is one of those who live make wands – although such is his skill that he is practically never without customers nor money. And although usually he takes a pleasure in crafting wands which might easily find use amongst witches and wizards, sometimes he has special projects: wands he has fashioned purely to push his craft as far as it can go, and not intended for sale because the character required of the witch or wizard that such a wand would 'serve' would be unlikely to ever walk through the door.' _

Update: July, 2013

Minor detail of Horace Slughorn's visit to Spinner's End revised, to account for events involving exams...


	7. Descent Through Fire

(corrections and other minor revisions to this chapter, September 2013)

Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter.

Further Disclaimer: When Mundungus Fletcher thinks '…this city of disreputable politicians, traders (seedy or otherwise), diplomats from dozens of magical nations, and of thieves…' of Timbuktu he is thinking purely of the _magical_ side of that city. The normal side is relatively blameless.

Note: The following chapter is set in an alternate universe during August of 1976, where some characters and events are becoming significantly different from canon, following the manner in which Severus Snape snapped his own wand and quit Hogwarts. Since I originally posted the previous chapter, besides correcting a number of errors and revising some passages for better reading and sense, I have posted a supporting one-shot titled 'In Pursuit of Princes' which concerns the reaction of Lord Voldemort to various developments pertinent to this story. This story is rated 'M'.

Further Note: This chapter (initially posted at the end of July, 2013, to keep a promise) was somewhat rough in places; as of September 2013 it has been revised, with a number of spelling, typing, and editing errors corrected, and some sentences reworked for better turns of phrase. Some of the sections (such as the Peter Pettigrew one) are included in this chapter to counterpoint the insanity that some of the principle characters are facing; they may be having torrid times, but for others life goes on (relatively carefree for now).

Terminology Clarification: There is some reference in the course of this chapter to 'exam remarks'. By this I refer to the process of the original marks awarded to exam candidates being entirely disregarded and the papers gone over and marked again by a different set of officials.

* * *

><p><em>Mr. Garrick Ollivander of Diagon Alley is a wandmaker. Some wandmakers make wands to earn a living, but Garrick Ollivander is one of those who live to make wands – although such is his skill that he is practically never without customers nor money. And although usually he takes a pleasure in crafting wands which might easily find use amongst witches and wizards, sometimes he has special projects: wands he has fashioned purely to push his craft as far as it can go, and not intended for sale because the character required of the witch or wizard that such a wand would 'serve' would be unlikely to ever walk through the door. <em>

_Nonetheless, apparently fate or destiny enjoys an occasional good joke, and one does. More than half a century ago one of his earlier experiments in such wand-making – a yew and phoenix feather wand – walked out of the shop in the hands of one Tom Marvolo Riddle, although the holly and phoenix feather 'twin' he made to it at the same time has been lying in a box gathering dust ever since._

_Garrick Ollivander's knowledge and craft has advanced considerably since the days he made the wand which became Tom Marvolo Riddle's, and he is currently putting the finishing touches to a wand he is confident will never find a user. Fifteen inches of lightning-blasted oak, culled from the wood of a 'hanging tree', with a core of what the Arab merchant 'Alhazred' who sold it to him some seventeen years ago assured Mr. Ollivander was 'dragon heartstring', although it is unlike any dragon heartstring that Mr. Ollivander had seen or worked with before or since – though it certainly possesses at least all the qualities common to such a substance, and many more beyond. Mr. Ollivander had been hoarding that particular latter purchase up for an occasion such as this, and within the past couple of months, inspiration finally struck._

_Mr. Ollivander has never had the opportunity to examine the fabled 'Wand of Destiny', but he has occasionally traded carefully guarded words with Gregorovitch who did once possess it, and this is his intended response to the notion of it, deliberately crafted to be the same length as that of the famed 'Elder Wand'. It is the wand of the head of a great house, fierce, ruthless, tempered by fire – almost 'unstoppable'. It is a wand which belongs in the world of fireside stories, told by twinkly-eyed old men to awestruck children – a world occupied by witches and wizards who have faced terrible trials and cleave now the very bedrock asunder or call lightning from the skies, so great and terrible have they become. It is a wand which will not pick any inexperienced fresh-faced child of ten or eleven who ventures into the shop, looking for a wand, and (other complications aside) any older (experienced) witch or wizard seeking a 'replacement' wand is unlikely to have the fire and fresh-faced enthusiasm necessary to satisfy this wand. Witches and wizards tend to become comfortably complacent as they get older – or at least to such a degree so as to be considered 'unworthy' by this wand. _

_Which is just as well – for this is a wand which, to be entirely honest, Mr. Ollivander would have thought twice about making if he sincerely believed that an owner would ever show up in his lifetime. For the witch or wizard that such a great and terrible wand was prepared to choose could turn society upside down if partnered with it._

_Humming to himself a little ditty his mother taught him, Garrick Ollivander applies the final coat of wax to the wand…_

* * *

><p>Peter Pettigrew was sure that he was in love.<p>

Normally he wouldn't have dared look a girl in the eyes but there had come a moment, back on the platform at King's Cross at the end of the school-year when, in the midst of pulling her owl off James, his eyes had met those of Cassidy Adams and he had felt an instant connection – more than that he had _known_ that this was the young lady with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

He had spent much of the summer thus far frantically trying to track down her address, so that he could owl her, and when he finally obtained it he commenced to bombard her with letters.

Her response had puzzled him at first. She seemed to think that he wasn't so much interested in her as in Lily. That made no sense at all to Peter. _James_ was the one with the crush on Lily, not Peter. He had written back to her assuring her that this was not the case, (although he remembered to be polite about Lily, since she _was_ one of Cassidy's friends) and that she was the only one for him. He had enquired if he could send her flowers or other tokens of his affection, and she had replied that that was rushing things a bit much right now, but that possibly she might allow herself to be taken to Hogsmeade once they were back at school, on the first mutually convenient weekend – although she would invite another friend along to chaperone her.

Peter had replied that that was fine by him, that he would look forward to it, and in the meantime was there anything (even though she was a Ravenclaw) that he could assist her with? He mentioned that he _was_ particularly good at transfiguration, and could give her tips on that if that would be any help?…

* * *

><p>It was obvious to Severus Snape, when Lily made her evening call on the Snape household of August the 11th, that Lily had something on her mind. Given that she had been to see his grandfather only that morning, that was hardly surprising. Gnaeus Octavian Prince was a wizard who made impressions on those that he met.<p>

In the privacy of Severus' bedroom, Severus had enquired of her how breakfast had gone, and she'd said with a rather distracted air that she'd been asked a lot of questions, mostly pertaining to Hogwarts. It was clear to Severus that rather more than that had happened, but that right now she didn't want to discuss it.

Instead she wanted to move on to the physical side of these evening visits, and Severus duly obliged.

All through it though, there was something clearly bothering her, and once those (in)formalities had been dealt with she sat up next to him, a faintly guilty look on her face, and drew a deep breath.

"Severus. You may well be seeing increasingly more of me than you expected in the coming months." She made a face. "I spent half an afternoon working on how to try to say this, including one awful phase where I was trying to make a pun or play on words with 'expectant' in it, but I just couldn't get anything which sounded _good_."

"Lily. You're not making much sense." Severus said, although alarm bells were starting to sound in his head as he looked at her.

"Severus:" she swallowed in what looked a combination of nerves and pale-faced _anxious_ guilt. "I'm pregnant."

He experienced the disconcerting sensation of his brain shutting down.

He was vaguely aware, through the sensation of numbness paralysing most of his thought processes, that his mouth was opening and closing and that air was passing through his vocal cords. Some sort of inane drivel was emerging from his mouth, which might be words. Some sort of unbelievably ridiculous insanely _crude_ remark regarding the general area of her bosom and things he had observed there.

Things which he had observed but assumed to be regular to whatever it was that women normally experienced approximately every twenty eight days.

"Severus. I'm trying to be serious. This _is_ serious."

Too right she was trying to be serious. For a start there was the whole tone of voice that she was using and that she kept on calling him 'Severus', rather than 'Sev'. Part of Severus' brain started functioning again for just long enough to recognise the financial implications of parenthood, then shut back down in shock. More sounds resembling words, but which he had not carefully selected, began to emerge from his mouth…

* * *

><p>It was some hours after she had broken the news to Severus of her pregnancy – and considerably later than she had expected – that Lily emerged from the Snape house to make her weary way home.<p>

'Knackered' did not even begin to describe the way that she felt right now.

She'd witnessed the horrifying sight of Severus _babbling_. Saying the first things which came into his mind.

And unfortunately, she'd witnessed _rather more_ than that of what went on in his mind.

Attempting to snap him out of one phase of babbling she'd looked him firmly in the eyes, and found herself accidentally using legilimency.

After several moments of stunned silence, Severus had made what apparently, according to the books, was a classic beginner's mistake to discovering someone else in your mind, which was to think of all the memories which you _least_ wanted them to see – which in Severus' case had involved frequent humiliations and other rough treatment at the hand of James Potter and his cronies, with a mix of Professor Slughorn not able to do much with his hands tied and of Dumbledore and McGonagall taking Potter's side, like the good little Gryffindors that they were.

Severus had gone to pieces in front of her.

Bloody pride.

She had no idea why he'd taken it from the Gryffindor alliance for as long as he had before snapping and quitting Hogwarts, and she certainly couldn't understand why he hadn't simply invented something lethal, uncurable, and untraceable in the potions lab and sneaked it into the pumpkin juice of four certain Gryffindor pupils one morning. _She_ would have done in his position, instead of trying to fight an ongoing war against four boys in the same year who had the covert blessing of the two highest-ranked teachers in the school – and out of her and Severus, she'd thought that she was supposed to have been the one in Gryffindor.

She could at least now start to grasp just why he'd been poking around in the dark arts during his time at Hogwarts, in a desperate search for _anything_ which might have suited his need to attempt to match the foursome in spell battle 'like a proper wizard'. Conventional magic certainly didn't have a lot to help against odds like that.

If there *was* any upside in this episode, it was that she had been relieved to discover that (so far as she could see) thus far contact of Severus with recruiters of Voldemort (another thing he'd not wanted her to see) and the like had been both minimal and relatively harmless. There had been some overtures, but his association with her, a known muggle-born, had not exactly been secret within Slytherin and had kept them from regarding him as a potential recruit. They'd viewed him more as a possible occasionally useful minor odd-jobs prospect, but nothing more unless he could be persuaded to break with her.

That was by the by though.

She just couldn't believe what the headmaster and his head of Gryffindor House had been allowing to go on at Hogwarts. If they'd been making bad decisions because they were overstretched because they were busy with other stuff (with the war), they should have given something up – preferably the positions of headmaster and deputy headmistress for a start. There were other teachers already at Hogwarts, Lily was pretty certain, who could have done at least as good a job of running the school as them.

Education or not, there was no way in hell that she was going back to Hogwarts right now unless something _very_ major changed in the school's management. Even without taking into account the baby.

She and Severus hadn't exactly gotten round to discussing names. Once they'd finally figured out the way to end the legilimency was by Lily dragging her horrified gaze away (Severus had been unable, even with some of his worst memories flitting past her gaze, to eject her) they'd spent a long time huddled up to one another, just shivering.

At one point Lily had made some remark about Severus being 'a bloody brave idiot – probably the bravest I know', but he'd been too much in shock to make any kind of snappy comeback to it.

He seemed rather relieved that Lily was still actually there, and hadn't regarded him as some sort of failure to be dumped as fast as possible.

Lily had no idea (mercifully) what Severus might have been thinking in that long silence, but _she_ had been imagining some exceptionally painful and humiliating things to do to that two-faced, smug, hypocritical twat of a so-called 'headmaster' and his blindly loyal deputy. Professor McGonagall was supposed to have been a _Gryffindor_ back in her own school days, according to popular Hogwarts lore – that seemed totally at odds with the woman who bowed now to the headmaster's every wish in a manner that even most Hufflepuffs whom Lily knew probably would have considered taking loyalty perhaps a bit too far in the unreasoning direction.

Lily arrived back home, had a brief wash, and crawled into bed, absolutely exhausted.

She did not sleep well. The Marauders tormenting Severus, whilst Albus Dumbledore loomed in the background like a badly-dressed evil genie, featured prominently in her dreams.

* * *

><p>The morning after Lily's fateful visit to the Snape household, Severus awoke none too sure if he'd mentioned her 'news' of last night to his parents? Truth be told, last night was something of a blur in his memory from the moment that Lily had arrived.<p>

Having faced the Marauders in increasingly frequent and sophisticated ambushes at odds of one-on-four for most of five school years at Hogwarts, Severus Snape had thought that he could handle a crisis situation and comport himself reasonably well in one.

It turned out that the Marauders hadn't ever come even remotely close to pulling-the-rug-out-from-under-him (except in the occasional _literal_ sense) when it came to situations featuring _genuine_ pressure. Discovering your girlfriend (Severus assumed that Lily must count as that) was pregnant, that your _grandfather_ (the scary, mysterious, powerful one) knew about it, and then having said girlfriend invade your mind by means of legilimency laying bare every humiliating moment that you'd ever experienced to her gaze was a _crisis_ and Severus could not exactly say that he had covered himself in glory during said recent crisis. About the only positive thing which he _could_ discern from last night was that Lily hadn't actually walked out on him in disgust at either discovering quite how often he'd been on the losing side against the Marauders, or the way he'd cracked under the pressure that she'd put him under. That must mean that to some extent she must be absolutely genuine in her feelings for him – although _that_ put him under further pressure and a heightened sense of obligation and of duty to _her_.

One thing _was_ certain: This was about more important things now than simply bringing down Albus Dumbledore or the society over which he presided, and _that_ was scary – that it was possible to discover that there _could_ actually be anything bigger and more important than that.

* * *

><p>Lily's week steadily got worse. The morning following her visit to see Severus' grandfather and her accidental legilimency on Severus of the subsequent evening, she girded her loins, figuratively speaking, to break the news at breakfast that she was pregnant to her parents.<p>

A blazing row resulted.

Lily _had_ been intending to tell them who the child's father was, but seeing as how they took the news that she was pregnant in the first place, and the threats they issued to 'lock her in her room', she claimed it was 'some boy she'd met at a disco and got drunk with' on an evening she'd been bunking off doing school study.

To her relief, her parents swallowed this story, causing Lily some relief she'd finally abandoned some of her previous Gryffindor-ish 'scruples'.

Petunia was not so easily deceived.

"It's the Snape boy, Severus, isn't it?" Petunia smirked, approaching Lily in her room ten minutes after the shouting (and breakfast) concluded. "Who's making me an aunt?"

Lily considered for a moment the possibilities and potential drawbacks (including the odds of attracting Ministry attention) of confunding or obliviating her sister.

"And if it were?" Lily opted for negotiation-before-hexing.

"Oh, I expect it doesn't matter much in the bigger scheme of things." Petunia's smirk broadened. "Not who it is, to me, I mean. Mum and dad obviously want to track whomever it is down and murder him, but I'm more interested in how this situation benefits _me_."

"What are you after, Petunia?" Lily narrowed her eyes.

"Vernon," Petunia mentioned the name of _her_ boyfriend, "is hoping to get a job some day with _Grunnings_. Severus – and may I add you could do with following his example and turning your back on all that jiggery-pokery and getting a job in the _real_ world – has a position at Bingby & Cratchettall. And Vernon says that it is useful 'in the trade' to know _anyone_ at Bingy & Cratchettall. Even the factory floor tea-boy. If I don't make trouble for you over _your_ boyfriend, maybe some day in the future you'll recommend to him he has a little chat with _Vernon_."

"That's it? You say nothing, now, on the basis of maybe some future favour for Vernon?" Lily tried not to sound too cynical.

"Not a favour. Just an introduction. I'm sure, as men of business, they'd be able to sort any deals out between themselves." Petunia said. "And I'd be asking a _lot_ more, if I didn't think the example Severus is setting you is quite such a good one."

In other words, Lily thought, Petunia suddenly approved of Severus because he had apparently turned his back on the magical world and got a 'proper job'. Lily wasn't sure if that was the sort of thing she ought to be laughing or crying about. However, for now she did neither.

"I'll think about it." Lily said.

"Don't think about it too long. Mum or dad would expect me to mention it to them fairly _soon_ if I were aware that it weren't a boy you were too drunk at the time to be able to now remember the name of or anything else about." Petunia warned.

* * *

><p>When Severus arrived at work on Thursday, Mrs. Blaston of course wanted to know why he looked so dazed, and she proceeded to sit him down in a corner of the kitchens, make a pot of tea, and extract from him the general details. She was sympathetic, once she elicited the detail that Severus had always believed his girlfriend had been 'taking precautions', and she coaxed out of Severus information regarding Lily which she was not already aware of from things which either Severus or his father had mentioned in conversation.<p>

"It sounds like she _wanted_ this." Mrs. Blaston pronounced her own verdict of the situation. "Do you care about _her_?"

"What, Lily? _Yes_." Severus responded.

"Then, there's not much point to my saying any more about the subject right now." Mrs. Blaston said. "Now, enough of this lollygagging around – we've got elevenses coming up soon, and not even when one of those awful German planes crashed into the works one night back in nineteen forty, killing half a dozen poor souls and making a dreadful mess besides, has mid-morning tea for this factory ever been _late_."

And she busied herself so _meaningfully_ that Severus was able to half-rouse himself into something resembling a semblance of normality and to get on with his job.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore tried not to be unduly superstitious about dates, but it was now Friday the thirteenth of August and with the conclusion of the exam remarks (finally!), Albus Dumbledore hoped that his summer had finally turned a corner and that things would now become simpler and considerably less complicated. It had proven necessary for every last one of this year's OWL exams for potions, muggle studies, and the history of magic to be remarked in the first place, because discrediting the previous marking team who covered these subjects (so that they'd be fired so that <em>everything<em> they'd looked at would have to be remarked) had, so it transpired, been the only way, short of primary legislation in the Wizenganmot, that Albus could make Severus Snape's potions OWL go away. For unfortunately, Severus Snape having sat his potions OWL some days before the unfortunate scene by the lake, and Horace Slughorn having previously put in a request for a 'rush job' on the top pupils in the year, it had turn out that Severus Snape's potions OWL had been marked already and a provisional result fixed upon before Albus had sent out his 'disqualify from all unmarked exams' directive. Even more unfortunately, Severus having ceased to be a part of Hogwarts, Albus had had no right to demand an individual remark of Severus' potion's OWL so it could then be disqualified, or at least not without Wizengamot legislation – but the point of Albus denying Mr. Snape OWLs was to make him an utter nonentity, which discussion of him in the Wizengamot would be the very antithesis of. Thus Albus had had no way forward except to discredit the potions exam markers (who also happened to cover muggle studies and history of magic) so that _everything_ would have to be remarked that they'd done.

Given the ridiculous _ease_ with which Albus had been able to discredit the necessary markers, it had probably been for the best that they be weeded out anyway. The whole exam marking system was a mess, in need of an overhaul – not that Albus had any need for _that_ to happen right now. He already had far too much to do, with too little time to do it in, to want to see more than the minimum number of exam markers disgraced sufficient to make Mr. Snape's potions OWL go away, but the point was, as it turned out he'd actually probably done everyone a colossal favour by getting rid of _some_ of the markers.

Albus' brother, Aberforth, had however entered one of his 'I'm not speaking to you, I don't know you at all' phases at some point during the remark process, to Albus' considerable disappointment. The only explanation his brother had offered Albus was a tight-lipped quote of a muggle song popular some years earlier: 'There was an old lady who swallowed a fly…'

Albus wished his brother would be less cryptic some of the time.

And then there had been the whole awkward business of that meeting of the Hogwarts school governors at the end of July.

That had not gone well.

Hope, though Albus had, that the unfortunate incident with Miss Evans _might_ have been forgotten about by then, it had still been fresh in the governor's minds. And whilst they hadn't been overly bothered by the identity of the student involved on the offensive side (to the governors' incredibly prejudiced and bigoted minds a Black hexing a muggle-born was hardly obstupefacting news) they _were_ bothered that apparently Sirius Black hadn't been punished for it.

They had wanted to know _why_ not? And if bribery had been involved, they wanted a cut of the bribes, too.

In vain had Albus tried to reassure them that Mr. Black _had_ indeed been punished by having his wand confiscated except during lessons. Several of the governors had had children attending the school, however, all of whom had reported to their nearest and dearest that Mr. Black _hadn't_ even had his wand temporarily removed – the decoy wand strategy Albus had devised, meant to spare Mr. Black embarrassment (and to avoid him looking defenceless to Slytherins with grudges to settle, still in attendance at the school), had it seemed been all _too_ successful. The school governors had not believed that Albus had punished Mr. Black.

And there had also been the whole mess of the younger Trescothick girl having been suspended, with the Trescothicks having complained to the Blacks, and the Blacks claiming there must have been a good reason for whatever one of their sons (however currently publically in their disfavour) had done, but requesting the governors unsuspend her and issue an apology for what the headmaster had done, to try and put to rest the issue from a Black point of view.

Albus had been obliged to expend a good deal of political (and some financial) capital in the end to make the matter go away in the wake of that meeting, and by then the remark and scandal of the exam markers who had been dismissed was in full cry (which thankfully was not technically a Hogwarts issue) demanding _more_ of Albus' time at the Ministry advising various people on various matters until he _almost_ had wished that he'd let Mr. Snape have that wretched potions OWL.

At least, that was, until he'd discovered what Mr. Snape's mark _had_ been, at which point he'd concluded that it was essential that such a talent not receive any official recognition or acknowledgement at all, if it couldn't be trusted to obey and respect the _right_ people.

Speaking of which, now that things were (finally) slightly less hectic (with the delayed exam results finally going out to students today), he really _ought_ to drop by Severus' home town and make sure that he wasn't up to any mischief. The Snape family home in Spinner's End was, at least in magical terms, a brooding fortress of dark sorcery, the likes of which in peaceful times would have indicated that the Snape family was Clearly Up To No Good At All, but in this troubled era it was, alas, all too often a common sight amongst nervous witches and wizards who had muggle connections – as did Severus' mother. Albus probably could have forced an entry into the Snape home – if he'd had the time and freedom from distractions – but it was hardly necessary to do so to check that young Mr. Snape had got the message as to what his true place was in the world and to see that he was keeping to it.

No, Albus' contacts in the auror office had information that Mr. Snape was working as a tea-boy at a factory nearby to the Snape family home, so all that Albus need do was to drop by the 'works' and ask some casual questions to ensure that this was in fact the case. In the event that the story was true, then clearly Albus would be able to dismiss Mr. Snape from his thoughts and not worry about him further until this seemingly endless war was over.

* * *

><p>Fifty-five minutes after he had departed Hogwarts for an early-morning visit to Cokeworth, Albus Dumbledore found himself in the highly uncomfortable situation of having to explain to Magical Law Enforcement just why he had been apprehended by an undercover auror in the act of pointing his wand at an increasingly outraged muggle tea-lady by the name of 'Mrs. Blaston'.<p>

* * *

><p>In the wake of his early-morning scouting trip to Spinner's End and subsequent highly embarrassed explanations to Magical Law Enforcement (it took well over an hour for Albus to even halfway convince them that he had been intending simply to shut the woman up and make her forget he'd ever been there, and they'd never explained to him how they'd <em>known<em> there was a wizard intruding on the premises), Albus Dumbledore arrived back at Hogwarts to the news that one of the Wizengamot's perennial troublemakers, Gnaeus Octavian Prince, had called by and was waiting in the headmaster's office to 'catch a word with him'.

Albus entered his office, noting the apparent absence of anyone else other than the Sorting Hat (dozing on the mantel) and Fawkes, looked at the apparently empty upholstered leather chair for guests in front of the desk, and sighed.

"I know you're there, Gnaeus. You may as well make yourself visible."

"Actually, I'm over here, Albus." the head of what was left of the Prince family materialised next to a bookcase. "I was admiring some of the titles you've been collecting. I'd been shopping in Diagon Alley and took the liberty of leaving some of my supplies on that chair." He snapped his fingers, and a couple of bags of books and herbs materialised on the chair, explaining the indentations which Albus had observed. "Disillusionment can be a truly dangerous thing, Albus."

Albus had a sense that Gnaeus was making some joke or dig at him beyond the obvious, but didn't have the time or patience to try and figure it out.

"I presume you have a reason for this visit beyond looking at what I've been reading lately and trying to annoy me with cryptic remarks?" Albus returned, heading round behind the desk to settle himself in his chair for what could be a long and frustrating conversation. The Prince patriarch was annoyingly good at occlumency, and even if looking Albus directly in the eye was sufficiently capable under most circumstances at protecting his thoughts that verbal duelling was the best hope Albus usually had of ever getting anything out of him.

"I gather, Albus, that magical law enforcement recently caught you pointing your wand at a muggle tea-lady?" Gnaeus chose to remain standing, peering at Albus' book collection.

"I'm curious as to how you've already heard a rumour like that, Gnaeus?"

"A number of years ago I procured sufficient shares in a muggle company named 'Bingby and Cratchettall', Albus, to be able to fire any employee in said company. It was a precaution I considered it prudent to take at the time, in case Eileen Snape ever turned nasty – seeing as how her husband worked there."

Albus nodded at this – it made sense that Eileen's former father would know just how vicious and unreasonable anyone named Snape might get. Gnaeus had been the one who'd thrown her out of the Prince family after all, for Merlin's sake…

(Gnaeus' declared interests in the company also suggested to Albus a number of credible reasons for how Magical Law Enforcement had come looking for a wizard on the premises so fast.)

"At any rate," Gnaeus continued, still looking at the books, not Albus, "it occurred to me that this news would not go down well with your traditional supporters, with whom you have been having a rather torrid time of late. Whilst I have no intention of allowing you to try to cover this up – Mrs. Blaston is a blameless muggle, highly useful to the overall functioning of the company, after all – I would be prepared to offer you political support in the Wizengamot for the next few years whilst you rebuild bridges with your more usual supporters, contingent upon an immediate and specific favour or two in return."

"Favours such as?" Albus enquired. He was reasonably certain that Gnaeus was overestimating the weakness of Albus' position, and the man was hardly someone Albus ordinarily wished to associate with, but it was always useful to know what other people said that they _wanted_, the more effectively to be able to turn the screws later if an opportunity should ever arise.

And _now_ Gnaeus turned to face Albus.

"You resign as headmaster of Hogwarts, the better to be able to focus on your political interests, and recommend me to the Hogwarts board of governors as your favoured choice of successor." Gnaeus said. "I'm getting on in years, Albus, and I've been looking and wondering about what legacy, if any, I might leave the world? I've been overshadowed by figures such as yourself in politics practically forever, and by this point in my life I'm prepared to concede I'm unlikely to ever lead in the Wizengamot or Ministry, but I could quite see myself as headmaster of Hogwarts for a few years."

"You're practically a spring-chicken compared to me, Gnaeus." Albus chuckled. Then he turned serious. "I'm afraid that your offer is quite unacceptable. I see myself much more as a school-teacher than a politician, Gnaeus, and I cannot possibly contemplate putting aside my position here to concentrate on politics. I think I do more good here, at Hogwarts, for society, than I could ever do in the Wizengamot and ICW, even were I to focus more fully on the latter two."

"That's your final word Albus?"

"That's my final word, Gnaeus."

"We're both proud old men Albus – perhaps too old and too proud at times, I sometimes wonder. I thought that that would be your position, but I wanted to put the offer to you. We often disagree on a great many things, but I have _some_ respect for the wizard who defeated Gellert Grindelwald." He came forward and offered his hand across the desk. "Goodbye Albus."

"I'll see you around, no doubt, Gnaeus." Albus declined the hand.

Gnaeus waited a moment, then withdrew his hand, collected his bags and departed.

Albus shook his head and tsked to himself once the other was safely gone.

Gnaeus was a competent enough operator in his own way, but so _limited_ – and seldom with any concern for the bigger picture. Albus _needed_ to be at Hogwarts as well as in the Wizengamot and ICW. Hogwarts was as vital as both the political forums to the ongoing battles to shape the future of wizarding society, and Gnaeus as headmaster would be an inevitable disaster. He'd probably see the school solely in terms of being there to provide an academic educational role, rather than the necessity of it also existing as a tool to ensure that attitudes and ways of thinking beneficial to society were also fostered. Schools during peacetime could afford the luxury of being there principally as forums for book-learning and training, but during wars the twin-duties for schools to both produce citizens who would fight to defend society and to be institutions that would identify for observation future possible dissidents must come to the fore. Wars were dirty businesses – and when one's enemies were prepared to carry out acts of terror and to kill it was, alas, tragically necessary to go to rather extreme lengths at times if one did not wish to prove oneself as evil as one's enemies by matching them in kind. For to slay against their will any truly sentient being (other than the most cruel and wicked of monsters), was the utmost possible act of evil, to Albus' mind. Life was a gift, and even those who did despicable things should not be killed out of hand, but be defanged instead and made to live in cages (if absolutely necessary), so that they would be both harmless and serve as useful object lessons to everyone else.

Albus reflected briefly again on Gnaeus' opening remarks about disillusionment – it seemed likeliest, in light of the 'offer' he'd made, that Gnaeus believed Albus might be suffering from a severe case of disillusionment amongst his own political supporters. Albus was unconcerned if that _was_ the extent of Gnaeus' analysis. Those who lined up alongside Albus in the Wizengamot were all politicians. They might be occasionally _disappointed_ by things which Albus did, but they certainly didn't have the sort of idealism that could produce _disillusionment_.

Albus dismissed any niggling doubts over Gnaeus' cryptic opening remarks, on the basis that Gnaeus had likely failed to understand the true picture on this occasion, and firmly turned his mind to the things which he _should_ be doing.

Humming to himself, he pushed aside a pile of paperwork containing reports on the state of Hogwarts' school brooms, and picked up a report on a speech about the thickness of cauldrons in use by professional potion-brewers from the Wizengamot. The speech and notes on how Wizengamot members had voted afterwards would prove particularly enlightening, he felt, on what anti-werewolf legislation might be coming in five or ten years time…

* * *

><p>It was Friday night and the end of a week which had taken a somewhat unexpected turn at Tobias Snape's place of work, with an unwelcome intrusion by the magical world. Tobias Snape had mentioned a few things to Eileen when he got back home, to indicate there was something which would 'need discussing', and Severus had indicated it had involved his former headmaster, but it was something which properly should be left until after dinner.<p>

Tobias Snape had felt the first real relief in almost five years, earlier in the summer, when Severus came back from Hogwarts for the last time – having quit the place. Tobias didn't have any problem with _women_ dressing up in funny clothes, riding around on broomsticks, and waving pointed sticks around whilst muttering magic words – stories were full of women like that, and all the more power to them – but they were hardly pursuits that Tobias Snape regarded as terribly _manly_, or that he considered it fitting that his son pursue; _wizards_ were supposed to do things such as manufacture magic swords or ensure that said swords ended up in the right place (either by leaving them in stones for once and future kings or by personally introducing them by hand into the entrails of various nasty creatures in need of a good and sound killing) or generally give sound political advice to those supposed to rule. In an absolute emergency, a wizard _might_ have to go so far as to put a king and all his knights to sleep to await a future crisis of a realm (although enchanted slumbers were generally much more of a witch thing to Tobias' mind).

It had consequently been with a sense of increasing disappointment over the years that Tobias Snape had thought about his son and only child being away at the Hogwarts place (the school name of which put witchcraft ahead of wizardry, making perfectly clear their priorities to Tobias' mind) – especially since it was apparent by the end of his son's first year there that he was being bullied by a gang of posh kids (though the school authorities couldn't care less about that), and that he was enjoying very little about the place.

With the passage of the years Tobias had become increasingly irked that he'd let Eileen talk him into Severus going to the school of witchcraft (and supposedly of wizardry too) in the first place.

Fortunately, that was all over now, Severus having finally developed the sense to realise that the place was no good for him, and to have walked away from it. And if it hadn't been such an unmanly thing to do, Tobias could have hugged his son, when Severus had said that he wanted to work at Bingby & Cratchettall.

Obviously, Severus being only sixteen (and having had nothing much by way of what by Bingby & Cratchettall's metric constituted a good education), that had meant that Severus was on the factory floor tea trolley for now, with Mrs. Blaston, but once he was older and knew more, he might be apprenticed to one of the engineers or clerks or draughtsmen.

And when the Hogwarts place had officially broken up for the summer, Tobias Snape had had the unexpected pleasure of seeing Miss Lily Evans turn up on the doorstep of the Snape household, and it had been as clear as day to Tobias from how she was dressed and fidgeting that evening, when she said she wanted to speak to Severus, what _she_ actually was there for. From the signs the previous summer, and what Severus _had_ written home from Hogwarts (when he had bothered to write at all), Tobias _had_ thought that the friendship between his son and Lily had been just about over, but that July evening it had become apparent that something had happened which had fixed it. And then Lily became a highly _regular_ visit to the Snape household, and Tobias didn't mind that one bit, because they were young, and it was good to see that Severus had a girlfriend, and… well, their relationship and quite clearly what was going on was something a lad Severus' age _should_ be engaged in to Tobias Snape's way of thinking.

Yesterday morning, in something of a daze, Severus had announced at breakfast that Lily had told him that she was pregnant. Tobias had tried to look suitably stern – and would have indeed had some pretty hard things to say about responsibilities, if Severus hadn't apparently already begun thinking and worrying about them – but secretly Tobias had been over the moon.

Lily had not come over yesterday evening. Perhaps she had been concerned over how the news had gone down with the Snapes, or perhaps her own parents had decided to lock her in her room. Tobias hoped that she wanted to keep the baby, and would occasionally bring it over here once it arrived. He couldn't wait to be a grandfather, and it would give Eileen something to do. Eileen wasn't really good at being a housewife, and missed being cut off from the society of 'her kind of people'. He was sure it would be good for Eileen to have Lily around, and especially if they could get together and have 'womens' talk' about the greater mysteries of motherhood.

And then this morning at work… well, there had been an 'incident'… or 'near-incident', and it had happened before Tobias or Severus had even got to the works. It had of course become the main topic of gossip around the factory during the day and it had affected Severus (who presumably knew something more of what it had potentially involved better than anyone else, but couldn't say in public) badly. Severus had been clearly relieved that Mrs. Blaston had come out of it just fine, though he had equally clearly been seriously rattled that the thing had happened in the first place.

For Severus' former headmaster had come snooping at Bingby & Cratchettall, and had been dragged off the premises by a burly uniformed police-officer.

Tobias Snape had never thought much of the Hogwarts headmaster from Severus' accounts, and he thought even less of him now, with Mrs. Blaston having met him and formed her own opinions of him, which she was perfectly free in reporting.

Anyway, dinner was now winding down, and Tobias was just winding up for the discussion of the day's business at work, when the rat-tat-tat of someone at the front-door announced an arrival, and a minute later, Lily Evans was ensconced in the kitchen.

"I, umm, got my exam results through today." she said, flushing slightly. "I thought that Severus might be interested to…" She trailed off, reading the mood around the table. "Has something happened today?"

"Albus Dumbledore turned up at Bingby & Cratchettall early this morning, and pointed his wand at Mrs. Blaston." Severus said.

Eileen drew her breath in sharply, and Lily stared.

"He _what_?" Lily asked.

"It was before I got there – he seems to have some idea of what time I start, and to have turned up to snoop around before I arrived on the scene, asking questions about _me_." Severus said. "He happened on Mrs. Blaston and started to question her, but he let slip that he was my former headmaster. Now I've always been _very_ careful about what I say about Hogwarts around Mrs. Blaston, but she seems to have guessed quite a lot from the few things I have said, and even more from the things that I haven't. So she laid into him with her tongue, and when she starts scolding someone like that there's no stopping her. Apparently the headmaster was in the act of pulling his wand out on her when a police-officer who must have been an undercover auror arrived. He apologised to Mrs. Blaston, said that the headmaster had recently had a mental breakdown and escaped from a hospital, and hurriedly removed him from the scene."

"Did she know he was a wizard?" Lily asked.

"I've never said anything to her which breaks the International Statute. She just thinks Hogwarts is a 'posh boarding school'." Severus said. "She apparently asked the headmaster what he was 'going to do with that stick?' and called him a 'senile old hippy' just as the undercover auror turned up." Severus shook his head. "It was a good thing for her that he _did_ turn up. I don't like to think of what the headmaster might have done to her if an auror hadn't shown up on the scene."

"That was strangely lucky." Lily said. "For Mrs. Blaston. That there _should_ happen to be an auror in the area, I mean." she frowned.

"Maybe the headmaster ordered one of his friends to keep an eye on me, and forget he'd done it." Severus said bitterly. "It's just the sort of thing he'd do; he's probably left directions in his will to the effect that even after he's dead and gone, one of his cronies is to periodically check up on me, and make sure that I'm not doing anything he'd disapprove of."

"Anyway, moving on to why _I_ came around here, I thought you'd like to hear my exam results." Lily said. "Since they'll mean more to people here than in my household, and since my parents and I aren't exactly on good terms at the moment..." She flushed briefly, at some memory, and moved hastily on. "I must say, I've done better in some subjects than I thought that I would…"

Tobias and Eileen exchanged glances as Lily babbled on with a slightly-over-the-top air of cheerfulness about her exam scores, trying to dispel (however temporarily) the shadow of Albus Dumbledore.

"_Dumbledore_?" Eileen mouthed at Tobias, when she was certain neither of the children would be watching. "_At your place?_"

Tobias Snape nodded, and he didn't doubt she would be writing to her father tonight, although it was always possible that he'd already heard.

Meanwhile, Severus was asking Lily about if she needed his assistance with some potion making (which caused Lily to give him an odd look, but agree), and then the talk inevitably got around to The Baby. Lily, Tobias was pleased to hear, was hell-bent on keeping the child, though her parents weren't so happy about that. She'd apparently spent most of yesterday arguing with them about it. She was amenable to discussion of baby names with the Snapes, although she was certain she wanted 'Lucy' if it was a girl…

* * *

><p>The morning after she got her exam results, Lily forced herself to use a public floo to travel to London on what turned out to be one of her 'worse' mornings for nausea, unfortunately, and she was a good ten minutes recovering, to her slight embarrassment, in the Leaky Cauldron. And then (unless she had somehow got the brick wrong) her wand seemed to be playing up too when she went to open the arch through to the Alley around the back, and it took her three attempts to get it open.<p>

After that she spent the morning shopping, calling at various herbalists, apothecaries, and other suppliers, with the long list Severus had dictated to her. He'd picked an odd time to take her up on her offers and finally request her assistance with something, and she could only assume that the prospect of fatherhood had in some way changed something, and he was anxious to pursue some lead which he might not otherwise have done. At any rate, some of the ingredients that she asked after caused raised eyebrows, until she added others from the same part of the list, at which point the puzzled expressions disappeared, and knowing nods became their replacements.

"Possible NEWT potions projects", she explained once or twice.

She also hired an owl to take a message to Professor McGonagall, requesting an urgent meeting with her head of house over her attendance at Hogwarts next term. Severus' mum had an owl, but Lily didn't want to borrow that to send a message to Professor McGonagall, in case the Head of Gryffindor somehow recognised it and started to wonder why Lily was using the Snape owl – or worse still told the headmaster about it. Lily wanted the depth of her involvement with the Snape household kept from the Hogwarts headmaster and his deputy for as long as possible, given just how little it was obvious that the headmaster thought of Severus. She just hoped that Professor Slughorn was keeping up to the promise that he'd given of his discretion over his discovery of their association.

And then, after a little light lunch, she went home.

She took the Knight Bus. It might be stomach-churning at moments, but not to the same intensity as the floo, which she was pretty sure would cause her to lose her lunch altogether.

In retrospect, she should have enquired of Severus' grandfather what the recipe was for that tonic he'd given her at breakfast the other day. Oh well, perhaps Severus' mum would have some idea what it was.

She tried not to fret about her wand too much. She'd had trouble summoning the Knight Bus, too.

* * *

><p>Mundungus Fletcher was running through narrow streets and twisting back-ways of Timbuktu, dodging in and out of magical areas and weaving through the muggle parts of the city, as the sun dipped and another deep and mysterious African evening impended.<p>

He was being chased. He had managed to lose all bar one of his pursuers, and he had deliberately _not_ lost that last pursuer, because Mundungus Fletcher would like to know, thank-you very much, just _why_ he was being chased, and that meant he needed someone to interrogate.

His sole remaining pursuer was making the same mistake that countless dozens of others had made already – thinking that because Mundugus Fletcher was a recently arrived foreigner, that he could not _possibly_ fit in here. Heck, Mundungus himself had made that same mistake for the first twenty-four hours or so, before he had discovered that he might as well have been born to take a leading role, strutting his stuff on the stage of this city of disreputable politicians, traders (seedy or otherwise), diplomats from dozens of magical nations… and of thieves.

Mundungus estimated that his sole remaining pursuer was probably just about fatigued enough by now to be relatively easy to subdue, nipped around a corner, unhooked a washing line stretched across the street with a flourish, and moments later had his pursuer sprawling in the dusk, whilst he knelt astride him and tied him up. When a woman emerged from a house, cursing volubly, Mundungus tossed her a handful of gleaming silver shekels in a well-rehearsed manoeuvre, which caused her to fall silent.

"Business, madam." Mundungus explained to her, in the local language, as he hauled his sullen captive to his feet.

She glared at Mundungus, and set about retrieving the discarded laundry, but offered no further complaint.

"Right, sonny Jim." Mundungus beamed at his captive. "You and I are going to go somewhere private to have a conversation, and maybe if you're co-operative, I won't find out if you can successfully wrestle a crocodile a friend of mine owns whilst at a severe handicap of still being thoroughly tied up…"

And as Mundungus headed off through the gathering dusk, hauling his newest 'friend' along behind him, he once again thanked his lucky stars for the distance between himself and wizarding Britain.

The Hogwarts headmaster, spectacularly babbling in sinister fashion, still regularly intruded into Mundungus' dreams – or rather more _nightmares_.

Mundungus tried not to think too much of the things of which the headmaster had raved, but some of the things he'd said about a phoenix making choices, a wand 'forged of gifts fallen from the heavens', and of blades being sharpened as 'the dark angel ascendant' readied hosts for war were rather difficult to forget.

Yes, wizarding Britain was definitely a good place not to be right now. You could never rely on something with a tendency to burst into flames at odd moments and be totally reborn as a new chick to make _sensible_ decisions in a crisis, to Mundungus' way of thinking…

* * *

><p>On Monday Lily received a response from Professor McGonagall to the effect that she was currently insanely overworked, catching up with things which had had to be postponed due to the delay over the exam results, and that Lily would have to wait till Wednesday morning, so Lily duly waited.<p>

It was at eleven thirty on the morning of Wednesday 18th of August – one week after Lily's trip to Bath to see Severus' grandfather, and three quarters of an hour after the deputy headmistress had promised to arrive – that Professor McGonagall turned up.

The head of Gryffindor was somewhat short of temper and of patience, and upon hearing Lily's reason for requesting the meeting, she 'blew up'.

Professor McGonagall ranted for close to twenty minutes in the living room of the Evans household, only pausing to occasionally demand what she considered a pertinent fact and not otherwise pausing to let Lily get a word in edgeways. Professor McGonagall made it quite clear that she considered Lily a highly irresponsible and disobedient little schoolgirl, a disgrace to Gryffindor, and not worthy of the badge of a prefect. Lily was surprised that the professor didn't actually demand Lily turn over her badge on the spot, but it was possible she was too busy riding her moral high-horse to do so.

"You will certainly _not_ be returning to Hogwarts in September, Miss Evans. On that, we are agreed, and I must say that it is the first and only ounce of common-sense that you appear to have shown in this." the professor wound down. "You may write to me again, _next week_, regarding possibly continuing your education by other arrangements. At present you are such a disappointment to me in terms of how recklessly you have behaved, that I would not trust myself not to transfigure _any_ correspondence from you into a clay pigeon and using it for target-practice. You will certainly not find _me_ a sympathetic ear for pursuing any NEWT level transfiguration studies. Good day to you."

And with that, she swept out, in a high dudgeon.

Professor McGonagall having departed, Lily's mother decided to take the opportunity to have another go, on a by now all too familiar and predictable note, at Lily.

Lily folded he arms and waited it out then said:

"You've said this all _before_, mum, and I'm _still_ not changing my mind about this." and swept up to her room.

Lily had had enough. An ear-bashing from Professor McGonagall, and then _another_ one from her mum, when she would have appreciated some familial support, was more than she could take.

Petunia found her packing a short while later, cramming as much into her school trunk and a couple of old suitcases as she possibly could.

"What is it, Tuney?" Lily turned to glare at her older sister.

"You're moving out?" Petunia seemed oddly subdued.

"Yeah, well, all I seem to get from mum and dad these days is 'get rid of it, it will be a waste of your life'. They _pretend_ by 'get rid of' they mean 'give away in however many months time it is', but really they'd just prefer me to take a trip down to a clinic next week. It's not an 'it', it's a 'him' or 'her', the fact I'm a witch means even if I _wanted_ to, giving a child away except as a last resort would be stupidly complicated, and I don't consider bringing up a child to be a 'waste' of my life. And even if it _were_, it's my life to 'waste', anyway, or at least I thought it was. So yeah, I'm moving out."

Petunia bit her lip.

"They mean well."

"Albus bloody Dumbledore _means_ well, or so he tells everyone!" Lily blew up. "And he means so, bloody, well, he protects a werewolf that's putting other pupils in danger, and he thinks bullies from families he wants to collect are amusing, high-spirited, young men whilst their victims should be punished if they don't roll over and tamely accept whatever's 'coming to them'. Professor McGonagall _means_ well, and her first thought about me this morning, once she learned why I wanted to see her, was avoiding any possibility of scandal from 'tainting' a school already crawling with favouritism thanks to her and the headmaster, and where every other year the latest defence teacher is involved in some new form of disgrace. I have _had_ it with people who _mean well_, with their opinions that everybody else ought to get in line with their own little plans, whilst it would never occur to _them_ to put themselves out of joint. Oh no, it's everyone _else_ who should inconvenience themselves to make the world a better place, _never them_."

Petunia had flinched at the biting anger in Lily's tone, and now she spread her hands in a conciliatory gesture.

"Look, you want to move out, and I think it will upset mum and dad more than you think, but it's your choice, fine. I think I can guess _where_ you want to move out to, and if you're intending to go any time soon, you're going to need help moving your things. I'll ring Vernon and get him to bring his car around. We can give you a lift. I remember what you've said about not being supposed to use magic _here_ and I doubt you're going to be able to get all your luggage anywhere soon without a lift, and it may as well be _us_ instead of you wasting money on a taxi."

Lily sagged, the anger draining suddenly away.

"Thanks Tuney." she said. "And I'm sorry for just shouting at you."

"I've shouted at you often enough. It's what sisters are supposed to be there for." Petunia smiled bleakly. She turned to go.

"Tuney – wait." Lily said. "Forget what I said about the Hogwarts headmaster and the werewolf. I think some of that stuff's supposed to be secret. It could get you in trouble if you repeat it and it ever comes to the wrong ears. And thanks – thanks for everything."

* * *

><p>August was rapidly going downhill for Albus Dumbledore. Gnaeus had been as good as his word and made sure that Albus couldn't hide the fact he'd pointed his wand at a muggle tea-lady, and somehow <em>that<em> had prompted the emergence of whispers in the Wizengamot comparing Albus to his father, Percival Dumbledore, who had of course been sent to Azkaban for attacking muggles – and it was being said that Albus had inherited his father's hatred of muggles. Worse still, over the weekend at a dinner party between the senior Blacks and the Greengrasses the conversation had apparently centred on how in his own youth Albus had been a friend of Gellert Grindelwald – and had agreed with Gellert wholeheartedly on the position of muggles in the world. Both these charges were difficult for Albus to fight: the complicated situation involving Albus' late sister, Ariana, made it impolitic for him to refute that Percival Dumbledore had had anything against muggles generally, and the fact that the essence of the Grindelwald stories was (regrettably) true made it very hard for Albus to convincingly deny them. All he could do to answer the latter was to plead forgiveness for the follies of youth – after all hadn't he _defeated_ Gellert, standing against him when nobody else could? – and hope that things improved.

At least the dinner party had all-but-confirmed his suspicions of where these attacks against him were emanating from. The Black family, evidently jealous of the influence that Albus had with Sirius (and that Sirius was going to be an auror because of Albus), were trying to destroy Albus out of revenge. Albus would just have to weather this storm, as best he could…

Oh, and Horace Slughorn had given Albus his notice today. He'd said that he'd work the next school year out, and then if necessary see the coming year's fourth and sixth year potions students through to their respective OWL and NEWT exams, but Albus was going to have to find a replacement potions master and head for Slytherin house. This decision seemed rather sudden on Horace's part, and Albus could make no sense of it at all – unless perhaps some of Horace's friends had been casualties of the upheavals during the exam remarks and Horace had taken the business unduly personally? At any rate, Horace had exuded an air of mysteriously offended dignity about the whole business, which if it persisted into September could make things unpleasant in the staffroom.

And now Minerva blew into the headmaster's office, a scowl on her face, that said that _her_ day hadn't gone at all well either. Albus vaguely recalled her saying something the other day about one of her Gryffindors having requested a meeting. Now she launched into a lengthy rant about the iniquities of youth and the scandalous behaviour of muggle-borns, and how this was all going to have to be hushed up to avoid Gryffindor house looking bad.

Albus nodded along occasionally, his mind on more important things, until he suddenly caught a couple of phrases and he switched straight into something as close to a state of panic as he'd come in decades.

"Wait a moment, Minerva:" he half-rose to his feet. "Did you just say that _Lily Evans will not be coming back to Hogwarts next month?_"

"The girl has behaved scandalously. It was all I could do not to throttle her on the spot, for so besmirching the name of Gryffindor, and her being a prefect too." Minerva said with an offended air. "I was quite relieved that she accepted she would not be returning to Hogwarts, and I warned her in no uncertain terms that whatever other teachers might think, she could certainly have no expectations of private tuition from _me_."

Albus sank back into his chair with a groan and clutched his head in his hands. This was the last straw! He was undone! Whatever reason was given out (and Minerva seemed to want to hush the real one up for some reason), the gossip-mongers would of course spread the lie that Lily was _not_ returning because Sirius Black had attacked her. They would make it look as if Albus was presiding over a regime which tacitly approved the driving out of muggle-borns by pure-bloods, which was not at all the case. Unless…

Albus looked up.

"Did you revoke her position as prefect yet, Minerva?"

"No. I hadn't even started to think about replacements, and I was so angry and disappointed with the way that Miss Evans has behaved that I didn't think to revoke it on the spot."

Albus had pulled a book off the shelf already, and was frantically leafing through it.

"Then we can force her back, Minerva! We can _make_ her attend Hogwarts for at least the start of the next year, or invoke 'dereliction of duties'." He stabbed a finger at a page in triumph! "You will write to her at once, and inform her that she will turn up for the start of term or face severe consequences!"

"Have you gone mad, Albus?" Minerva was looking at him in an odd fashion.

"Mad? No! It's sheer genius! Simple and pure genius! We can force her back, or make out that she's the party at fault in all of this! Either way, the situation will be saved!"

Albus felt a tremendous sense of relief.

"I don't understand." Minerva said.

"It would have been absolutely catastrophic, Minerva, with everything else that's going on, for Lily Evans not to be here for the start of the year!"

And the words tumbled out of Albus' mouth, as he begged, pleaded, and cajoled Minerva, to get her to see the _sense_ in the situation, and how everything would be lost – right down to and including the currently ongoing war itself – if Miss Evans did not arrive for the start of her sixth year at Hogwarts.

At length Minerva departed, a highly confused look on her face, but muttering that she would see what could be done, and write that evening.

Albus sank back into his chair, to collect his thoughts, and that was when Fawkes began to sing.

It was a low, mournful, song, that gnawed and niggled its way into Albus' head like an icy shard of conscience, that made him want to cover his ears, and pound the desk with his head in vain in an attempt to keep it out and to deny what was happening. It was a relentless, nagging, insistent song, that grabbed Albus Dumbledore and refused to let go.

And finally, when it was done, Albus conjured a mirror and found it very difficult to look himself in the eyes.

"What have I done, Fawkes?" he murmured to the phoenix. Instead of feeling triumphant, he now felt very beaten and quite thoroughly defeated.

Fawkes cawed something mournful sounding back at him.

Albus was still happy with quite a lot of the decisions that he'd recently made, but somewhere, he had to acknowledge now, he'd crossed the line into insanity in at least how he'd dealt with Miss Evans.

He would have to revoke that last order he'd given to Minerva. Quite why she'd apparently acceded to it, he wasn't sure. Maybe she hadn't ever planned on carrying it out, but had merely made a pretence of agreeing to it whilst she waited for him to calm down. He certainly _hoped_ that that was the case.

And he would have to write to Miss Evans, in case Minerva – Merlin forfend – _had_ carried out his instructions. How much time had passed, anyway, whilst he was lost in the phoenix song whilst Fawkes so very necessarily called him to account?

And then he would have to start planning for the end of his political power. Gnaeus likely had not fully understood the political situation, but he had turned out through accident of circumstance to have been right. Without Miss Evans at Hogwarts, come September, given everything that had happened Albus would be ruined. Oh, he could potentially cling on to something if he was so minded by paying unacceptable prices to wizards of dubious ostensible neutral positions, such as Gnaeus, and even absent such support he would still have a semblance of power – the Ministry would still need him for as long as the war lasted – but his independence to act or to dictate terms would be all but gone. Albus would have to hope that with others leading, this war could still end in a fashion – if not exactly timely – then at least _well_. His own ability to ensure the greater good would all too soon be gone.

* * *

><p>Petunia had reported to Lily that Vernon would be around with the car that evening just after dinner, at which Lily had nodded, and got back to her packing. Lily had never realised quite how much stuff she seemed to <em>have<em> or at least not when it came to trying to fit it into one trunk and two small suitcases. The fact that she couldn't afford to leave _anything_ vaguely magic-related behind of course influenced her choice of packing, and sadly restricted her options for taking other things. Maybe Petunia and Vernon could make other trips to fetch stuff for her, and it wasn't as if she wasn't going to need radically different clothes with the coming months, anyway, given that she _was_ having a baby. The choice of which of her books she ought to take was particularly hard though. Some were much thumbed and well read, whilst others were seldom touched but gifts of relatives (some now dead) she kept for sentimental reasons.

She was in the middle of trying to organise one pile, when there came a persistent tapping of an owl at a window, and she looked up to see a huge tawny eagle owl there.

She hurriedly let it in, and glanced at the note it bore.

To her surprise it turned out to be from _Hagrid_ of all people.

"Heard from Prof. M. you won't be at school next year, and thought you'd need a bird to stay in touch with your friends. This girl's for you, for your very own. HAGRID."

Lily was touched. That was so deeply thoughtful and kind of Hagrid – and would have been so very inconvenient if she had been planning to stay here, given Petunia's dislike of owls. Fortunately, Lily and her new owl would be living elsewhere.

Hagrid hadn't mentioned a name in the note though.

"Do you have a name?" she asked the owl, staring at it thoughtfully.

She was sure it twitched its head as if to say 'no'.

"Right. I'll have to think of one then." Lily said.

* * *

><p>Lily had broken the news to her parents after dinner that she was about to move out. They looked shocked, but Lily wasn't sure if that was because they genuinely cared about her, or because of the scandal that it might cause. They'd loved her so long as she'd been their perfect little princess, but once she'd started disagreeing with them, and embarrassing them this past week or so (though it felt <em>much<em> longer than that already), she'd seen another side of them altogether.

She remained tight-lipped about where she intended to go, saying only that 'I've got _some_ savings' and that Vernon and Petunia would be 'giving her a lift to a hotel' she could stay at overnight. She didn't _enjoy_ misleading her parents, but she didn't want them bothering her anymore, and the house of Severus and his family _was_ practically a hotel compared to here. Severus' parents were _always_ highly welcoming of her, and ever since Severus had left Hogwarts and started work they seemed to get on with one another noticeably better, as if Severus' time at Hogwarts had been a source of much of the friction between them.

She was spared another argument of some sort with her parents by the sharp rat-tat-tat at the door of Vernon arriving, _precisely_ when Petunia had said he'd promised he'd arrive. Lily was relieved that Petunia's boyfriend was the sort who was dead punctual.

Winging through the dusk, as Lily moved her luggage and (as yet still unnamed) new owl out to Vernon's car, came another owl, which flapped around Lily's head.

She took the note it held, apparently meant for her, and unfolded it, whilst Petunia explained to Vernon some of what was going on.

"Ruddy inconvenient way to send messages, if you ask me," Vernon said, as the owl which had just delivered the message disappeared into the evening sky.

Lily looked at the note and blanched. Then she crumpled it and dropped it into a pocket.

"Get my things in the car as fast as possible, and let's _go_." she said.

The Snape house was heavily warded. Right now she wanted to be somewhere protected from further wizardly attention as soon as possible.

* * *

><p>Vernon Dursley was discovering that he knew much less about his prospective sister-in-law than he'd thought. There was some sort of secret conspiracy going on, in which she was involved, and the people in it used <em>owls<em> to deliver messages to one another. It seemed a very messy means to him to get messages to one another – how did they make sure the birds didn't eat or lose the messages that they were supposed to be delivering for one thing? – but at least it meant messages could be sent at any time of day or night, he supposed. Well so long as the owls knew where they were going, that was. How did they do _that_ anyhow? Were they remarkably well-trained, or were they part of some sort of secret government project?

Petunia had said she'd explain some further things later.

He pulled up outside a house in Spinner's End which was apparently where Lily wanted to go. It didn't _look_ like anything special from the outside, but Lily – who had been tense ever since that owl dropped down at her – seemed to visibly relax, now she was on the doorstep.

She got out of the car, practically bounced up the steps to the front-door and proceeded to thump on the knocker. Moments later the door opened, and light spilled out onto the street.

The owl which Lily had apparently acquired only that afternoon emerged from the car to go and land on her shoulder. She stood there talking in animated conversation with someone.

"Her boyfriend lives here." Petunia said to Vernon. "He used to be involved in the secret stuff but decided to get out of it and take a job at Bingby & Cratchetall."

"Ah." said Vernon, trying to sound sage. He felt the situation called for more. "Well good for him."

* * *

><p>"<em>This<em> arrived by owl, half an hour ago." Lily, trembling slightly, extracted the note from her pocket.

She unfolded it on the table in the Snape kitchen, as Severus, Eileen, and Tobias gathered around. The others squinted at it.

_Dear Miss Evans, _

_I fear that there has been something of a mix-up at Hogwarts this afternoon. If Professor McGonagall has been in contact with you since your meeting of this morning, informing you that you have no choice but to return to Hogwarts come September the first, then please disregard any such communication._

_Yours,_

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Order of Merlin (1__st__ Class)._

"_Did_ you hear from Professor McGonagall since whatever you talked to her about this morning?" Eileen asked.

"No, Mrs. Snape." Lily said. "And this morning I told her that I would _not_ be going back to Hogwarts for the next school year, on account of my being 'in the family way'." Lily coloured slightly. "She seemed scandalised about it, but couldn't agree with me enough that Hogwarts would not be a suitable place for me to be."

"Nonetheless, the headmaster seems to think that you _might_ believe that you would be obliged to attend anyway." Eileen said, thoughtfully. "The only likely reason I can think of for that is if he was privy to some decision to that effect, but decided to subsequently countermand it."

It was apparent to Lily in that moment that whatever analytical ability Severus might have in common with his grandfather, had by no means skipped a generation with Eileen.

"I'm not sure I want even private tuition from Hogwarts teachers, if there's something going on that there was a plan to _force_ me back there." Lily said, shivering. "Are there apprenticeships or anything in the wizarding world an underage witch with good OWL results can occupy herself for a few months with, and maybe take up again, later?"

* * *

><p>The American wizard that James Potter's father had selected to try and teach James and Sirius the basics of politics had escaped from the room for ten minutes, ostensibly simply 'to visit the bathroom', but most likely for a purpose involving taking several stiff swigs from the silver hip-flask that he wore, too.<p>

"You shouldn't be so rough on him Prongs." Sirius said.

"Oh pooh, he's supposed to be a hardened politician." James said dismissively. "He should be able to take a bit of verbal byplay and one of those muggle inflatable bladders that make rude noises hidden under his chair cushion."

"Your father said that he's an _expert_ on politics, not actually a _politician_." Sirius pointed out.

"They're the same thing, I thought." James said. He pointed his wand at a little device with a line of balls hanging by strings from parallel bars that his father's expert had brought along 'as a visual metaphor to demonstrate pushes and push-backs of the political arena'. He flicked his wand and started the balls jiggling and bouncing around.

Sirius winced.

"He quite clearly explained in answer to your second, third, and _fifth_ questions that they most definitely are not."

"What does it matter anyway, Padfoot? It's not exactly like we're going to be politicians – or political experts – anyway. Professor Dumbledore's said that we're going to be aurors." James twiddled his wand and upped the tempo and bouncing of the balls.

"It matters, Prongs, because aurors sometimes have to deal with political stuff." Sirius said. "High level criminals sometimes use political connections to try and get away with things. And high level _good guys_, like Professor Dumbledore, use their own political clout to make the bad guys pay who are careful not to do anything _technically_ illegal."

"Well we can leave it to Professor Dumbledore to handle that stuff then." James flicked his wand one last time, and then watched the device wobble and topple over with a violent clatter of balls and in a tangle of threads.

"And this is the stuff that my family-who-disown-me are good at." Sirius said. "If we pay attention, we can prank them back some day on their own terms, and _really_ embarrass them."

"Why didn't you say that earlier?" James complained. "If this stuff is useful for _pranking_ people – especially your former relatives – then I should be paying attention to it!" He poked the toppled device with his wand. "Do you think I've broken it?"

* * *

><p>It was the last Saturday in August, and Severus had managed to borrow one of Bingby &amp; Cratchettall's factory workshops, where engineers normally carried out quality-control tests on random samples of products. He'd said it was to help his girlfriend with a school chemistry experiment, but it was still something he was certain that he wouldn't have been able to get away with without Mrs. Blaston's support and assistance. The woman was a marvel.<p>

On the far side of the workshop, behind a large transparent solid safety screen was a currently slowly cooling small cauldron of liquid. Lily and Severus – the doors closed and 'testing in progress, do not enter' warning notices affixed – were observing it, at Severus' insistence, from behind another transparent safety screen from the opposite side of the room. Severus hadn't actually explained to Lily what they were trying to do, during their preparation of the current contents of the cauldron.

Suffice it to say that they were the _only_ people in the workshop right now.

There was a sudden sizzling noise, and without warning the contents of the cauldron burst abruptly into weird, multi-hued, flames.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Lily asked him. "It's certainly _pretty_, but I take it we wouldn't be here now if it were just some new liquid firework you'd discovered?"

Severus paged through his coded notes, and glanced across at the cauldron, frowned, and glanced back down again.

"I _think_ it is." he said, at last. He should have felt elated. Instead he felt a faint sense of dread.

"And?" Lily raised an eyebrow.

"And?" Severus responded.

She put her hands on her hips.

"Are you going to explain what it _is_ now, or at least what you think it _ought_ to be?"

In the background the flames were still burning merrily away. Given the quantity they'd brewed, Severus guessed it could go on for half an hour or so – although, truth be told, he wasn't _quite_ sure how long it would burn for, given that practically nobody in living memory except maybe Nicolas Flamel had ever successfully seen it and survived to take notes. Of course _most_ witches and wizards who tried to brew it made a classic mistake, Severus was sure, of brewing it in a magical environment – which Bingby & Cratchettall's workshop was most certainly not.

"Philosopher's fire." Severus said, to answer Lily's question. Lily gave him a _look_ which said that that wasn't enough of an explanation, and so he went on. "After the siege of Syracuse in the third century BC the Roman and Greek witches and wizards of the time agreed to 'lose' the recipe. Since that time, there are no confirmed reports of the formula and brewing method being available anywhere, although from some of the historical accounts by apprentices of the last Greek and Roman witches and wizards known to have made it, reports of Nicolas Flamel's activities during the Renaissance, and with a _lot_ of hard work – including some highly risky guesses – I've reassembled the process for making it, I think. Ordinarily, exposed to air, it will after a short time catch fire, burn for a while, and then go out. The sting comes if you try to extinguish by magic. Almost any magical means used to attempt to extinguish it cause it to instead spread and multiply – for which reason it's also known as 'The Burning Hydra'. It's said that if a fierce enough blaze gets going, it can even ignite the magical wards supposed to defend a property. Ancient Syracuse… well it was supposedly once a town of magical wonders… before the siege. Nobody thought… realised… well, when the ashes cooled in what had once been the magical quarter, and one of the biggest cover-up operations of ancient times carried out on the muggle witnesses, the witches and wizards involved were so affected by what they'd seen that they agreed it didn't _matter_ who started it, but just that it should never happen again. And that was it for well over a thousand years, until Nicolas Flamel used something which seemed suspiciously like it in defence of a French town he was living in at the time."

"And so what? You were planning to maybe use it on Hogwarts or on James Potter's ancestral home?" Lily frowned.

"Yes and no." Severus said. "Simple destruction of property by me wouldn't make any real difference to anything – and there are much simpler ways than Philosopher's Fire to burn a house down. It is and always has been primarily a weapon of war: something used against an enemy in a crisis where they have little time to reason out what's going on and where the most effective means available to any witch or wizard to deal with it – simply running away – will cost them a battle. What I _had_ planned was that if I couldn't get hold of muggle arms easily enough, I _could_ offer it as a weapon to the goblins to try to persuade them to raise a goblin rebellion…"

* * *

><p>And now everything slipped out – Severus was too tired to keep this back from Lily any longer. How every previous goblin rebellion in Britain had foundered in the face of witches and wizards presenting a united front, but with magical society split by the current conflict, in theory there was an opportunity there for the goblins to step in, and gain a decisive victory. <em>In theory<em>, that was, since it was likely to take quite something to persuade the goblins to get involved, as neither Ministry nor Death Eaters were likely to provoke the goblins right now…

"It's an absolutely crazy idea, Sev!" Lily exclaimed. "It's pretty good up to the point where you hand everything over to Lord Voldemort and his flunkies, but at that point it just gets silly – not least in that if it _does_ work, that you're just letting _him_ reap any rewards from all your hard work. And that's a pretty _big_ 'if', mind you – I'd be surprised if the goblins trusted _him_ that much."

"Lily:" Severus knew his expression must be fairly pained. "I'm reasonably certain, even if everything else lined up, that the goblins _still_ wouldn't take up arms unless they could see an actual organization of witches and wizards standing by them. Given their current comfortable position in which they can watch witches and wizards kill one another for free, and the history of previous rebellions, they're going to want to see witches and wizards on the same side as themselves. And Lord Voldemort has the _only_ anti-Ministry organization around right now likely to be able to provide sufficient wands in support to convince the goblins."

"Then start your own organization." Lily said. "You're clever enough."

Severus had considered that option, unfortunately, at length, and long become inured to the bitter truth:

"Lily: I'm not exactly much of a 'people person'. It pains me to admit it, but I don't have the sort of networking or social skills necessary to lead an organization."

She hesitated, considering, and Severus hoped and dreaded that however much she cared about him, on a personal level, she surely would _have_ to concede that _that_ had some justification to it.

She drew a deep breath.

"Maybe not at the moment." she said, and then, just when he'd thought she couldn't turn his world any more upside down than she had already, she did it again: "_But __I__ am_. I could pull together and front an organization to help the goblins with their 'armed protest'. Half my friends would go along with something like that just because they've been bored almost to death by Professor Binns droning on about goblin rebellions so often that they'd do almost anything to see him have to _update_ his material. And a lot of the others would go along with it just to end unjust oppression of downtrodden other races by witches and wizards with wands. Why stop with just goblins for that matter? Wouldn't it be possible to get maybe the centaurs along, too?…"

* * *

><p><em>The bell on the door of Garrick Ollivander's shop tinkles, and he looks up to see a young woman in maybe her mid-teens walk in. Redhead. Green eyes of a rather particular shade. She seems familiar, and after a few moments, based on the colour of the eyes, Mr. Ollivander makes a guess as to her identity: <em>

"_Lily Evans, wand ten and a quarter inches willow, swishy. Good for charms?" _

_Her face is slightly awed for a moment. _

"_It's true what they say about you then!" _

"_I usually don't mistake a previous customer." He doesn't mention the moment of uncertainty he had in her case. "Wand still serving you well?" _

"_Err, no, sir. I don't understand. I brought it in for you to take a look at it, to tell me if there's something wrong with it?" _

_She has the wand out now, and Mr. Ollivander senses at once there is something amiss. _

"_Show me please. Try a levitation charm if you would? On this." _

_He places an empty box on the counter. _

"_What about the Ministry? I'm not yet of age, sir."_

_Her wariness now is at odds with the bright, enthusiastic girl Mr. Ollivander recalls of half a decade earlier._

"_I am authorised by the Ministry to oversee the use of wands by underage witches and wizards, Miss Evans, in pursuit of my trade."_ _he reassures her._

_And Miss Evans lifts her wand and tries to levitate the box. _

_It is of no surprise to Mr. Ollivander, from what he has already surmised, that it takes her half a dozen attempts to get it to rise in the air. The wand and she are fighting one another most of the time. _

"_It started playing up a week or two ago and it's been getting steadily worse since." _

"_If you would, Miss Evans, I would like to inspect the wand?" _

_She hands it over, and Mr. Ollivander turns it over rapidly in his hands, assessing it, then with a rapid twirl wordlessly levitates the box himself, zooms it round the room, and 'lands' it again. The wand serves him, exactly as almost any wand he has ever made would do so for its maker. _

_The wand itself seems perfectly functional still. _

"_If you would hold the wand please, in front of me?" Mr. Ollivander requests, offering it back to her. "I need to examine it in your grasp." _

_She does so, and at once Mr. Ollivander's suspicions are confirmed. _

"_Have you had any sudden and dramatic recent changes in your life circumstances, Miss Evans?" Mr. Ollivander asks, letting go of her hand and wand. _

_She hesitates – for longer than most would – and admits, colouring slightly, "I'm pregnant. Is that it? Nothing I've read about being a pregnant witch suggested it would cause my wand to play up." _

_Ordinarily it wouldn't. What Mr. Ollivander is sensing is a severe case of antipathy between wand and owner – something caused by so rapid a change in character and direction that the wand does not adapt fast enough to keep up, and essentially rejects the owner as someone who has become a complete stranger to it. Sometimes the owner can by brute force of personality make the wand serve him or her again, as if they had taken it by conquest in battle. Sometimes the wand adapts – eventually. And sometimes that's simply it. _

"_It's very rare." Mr. Ollivander hedges his answer. "It happens with the very occasional pregnancy." Or rather with the circumstances surrounding them. "You could wait to see if this passes, but to be frank with you, Miss Evans, you likely need a new wand. And unless I have something in the shop which takes a fancy to you, it will likely need to be something personally made for you." _

_Her face crinkles with worry. _

"_But when I bought this one," her knuckles whiten as she tightens her grasp on the willow wand which is failing her, "you didn't need to make that especially for me? And I'm sure that none of my friends needed special commissions." _

"_Children, Miss Evans, are – relatively speaking – magical blank-slates and so much more compatible with new wands. As a witch or wizard grows older, and becomes more developed in their studies and interests, the range of wands that would work well with them becomes much more limited. You can carry on trying to use your current wand, and your difficulties might – eventually – resolve themselves with time, but my professional opinion, as a master wand crafter, is that you would do better to acquire a new wand." Her face falls and Mr. Ollivander guesses at the cause of her concern – with a child on the way, and still being underage as a witch her financial circumstances may be rather tight. "Whether there is something in the shop or I have to make something especially for you, I will endeavour to keep the price reasonable and within your means." he promises. Later, he will wonder just why in Merlin's name he went and said that? _

_ She looks relieved. _

_He turns and gathers a pile of boxes off the shelf and again something happens, unexpected, though it is not immediately apparent. Later, that is the basis on which Mr. Ollivander begins to suspect that he has been a messenger of fate. _

_He starts to open boxes and extract wands, which Miss Evans experimentally waves around, with varying results. She hands them back with various comments, and he puts them away, or on one side for later possible consideration. _

"_This one feels __good__." she says, and Mr. Ollivander looks up to see, somehow, that he has in error jumbled a box with __that wand__ into the mix, and it is the very same wand it contained that Miss Evans is now waving through the air, happily trailing sparks from it. _

"_Lightning-blasted oak and dragon heartstring, fifteen inches." he automatically says. He hopes that Miss Evans is too busy waving it around to notice his expression. It feels as if his guts are being clawed out. This is IMPOSSIBLE. He can't stop the rest of the description of it from coming out of his mouth, although he does manage to lower his voice to a whisper in the hope she doesn't hear. "The wand of the head of a great house, fierce, ruthless, tempered by fire – almost 'unstoppable'. A wand of fireside tales." _

"_How much?" she looks at him, her expression inquisitive. At least she doesn't seem to have heard the last. _

"_That is one of my finer pieces of work, you have there, Miss Evans." he says. And the wandmaker opens his mouth to name a price likely to be well beyond her – anything to get her to put it down, so he can pass another wand which might suit her off on her, or even turn out a regular, custom-made one for her, and his casually given promise of minutes earlier rises up to choke him. _

"_Seven galleons." is what comes out of his mouth. The same price as what he charged Tom Marvolo Riddle for his yew and phoenix feather wand, when Garrick Ollivander was considerably greener in his craft, and the world less scarred by horrors. _

_She frowns and he is certain that she mentally compares the price to what she paid for the willow wand, and then her expression clears and she nods. _

"_Okay, I'll take it." _

_And the seven golden coins pass across the counter, the dragons on the 'face' sides seemingly mocking him, and desperately wishing that this were but a nightmare from which he will soon awaken, Garrick Ollivander wraps the wand and hands it over to Miss Evans. _

_And then it is gone, departed from his shop with its new owner, and for the first time in years Mr. Garrick Ollivander feels weak at the knees and almost collapses onto a stool, needing suddenly to be seated. _

_Merlin. __The__ wand – the wand he was confident would never find an owner has just done exactly that – and what scares him more than the wand is the kind of witch or wizard that it would choose to wield it. _

_Whatever has happened to Miss Evans, no wonder the old willow wand had become so reluctant to serve her, if she has become such that __that__ one is willing – and indeed eager from the sparks – to do so. _

_All that Garrick Ollivander can hope is that Miss Evans, whatever she intends, only does the best for society, because things might get very bleak if she does the worst._

* * *

><p>Author Notes: (updated, 20th September 2013)<p>

This is the last chapter, properly speaking, of this story. This story commenced with Severus Snape snapping his wand, and this chapter concludes with Lily Evans acquiring a new wand, and in between these two 'bookend events' various things have happened to Severus and Lily and to the dynamic between them. Logically, to my mind, this is the appropriate place to conclude this story, although there is the odd epilogue or so to follow, skipping ahead to look at some of the ongoing repercussions and aftermaths of events.

This chapter, as those who have been following the story for any time will have noticed, has been somewhat long in the coming, owing to long periods of lack of clue as to how to precisely proceed, interspersed with rewrites and rewrites of rewrites. (The scene between Gnaeus and Albus was the most rewritten scene to make the final cut, with at least three separate major rewrites, changing various aspects and emphasis of the wizards in their approaches to one another.) My thanks for the continued patience of most of those who have been waiting since 'On the Brink' was originally posted, with not much to report in this Alternate Universe in between, save for 'In Pursuit of Princes'.

I'm doubtful over whether 'obstupefacting' is a real English word, but it _feels_ to me as if it ought to be. I have vague recollections of some character or other in a school Latin text saying 'obstupefactus sum', to express that he really and truly was utterly astonished and surprised. Anyway, it's used in this chapter in a negative context, to indicate that the Hogwarts governors found a complete lack of astonishment in the news of a Black hexing a muggle-born...

On with the notes in proper:

As one early reviewer has noticed, 'Alhazred' (the merchant who sold Ollivander the 'dragon heartstring') is the same as the name, in H.P. Lovecraft's works, of the author of _The Necronomicon_. In another Lovecraft reference, the tapestry Lily sees on Gnaeus' wall in the previous chapter, when she goes to breakfast, is of Nodens, battling some mythos related horror or other...

Lily herself reaches a final crucial tipping-point in her development when she accidentally performs legilimency on Severus, and sees first-hand his memories of the repeated humiliations served up to him at Hogwarts over almost five school years. Those push her over the edge into radicalisation, where she actively, consciously, _wants_ to bring the headmaster down, almost irrespective of cost. This is the moment where she becomes a Lily who can several weeks later enquire without flinching if Severus plans to use Philosopher's Fire to burn down James Potter's ancestral home or Hogwarts itself? This is the moment where she becomes a Lily whom her willow wand starts to no longer 'recognise' and whom the wand that Ollivander has recently finished will be quite happy to work with.

It's _possible_ that Lily's parents might not have taken the news of her pregnancy _quite_ so badly if Lily had admitted that the father of her unborn child was Severus Snape (as opposed to someone she claimed she had a fling with, having got drunk at a disco), but in supplying a made-up father Lily was operating on the basis of their initial reaction to the news that she was even pregnant in the first place. She assumed that if she told them it was Severus that they'd do their best to stop her from ever going out to see him ever again, which she certainly didn't want to have to deal with.

Albus Dumbledore, with the increasing pressure he has been under (some of it self-imposed), has in this chapter taken catastrophic leave of his senses. And since he's too proud to delegate (or he doesn't trust others to do things right) this results in his personally taking increasingly wild decisions as events spiral more and more out of his control. (The message his brother sends him refers to a song, wherein the protagonist swallows increasingly improbable animals to try to deal with the consequences of the last animal she swallowed, which seems to me a fair metaphor for Albus' situation.) If only Albus would _stop_, before things become completely unmanageable... but of course he doesn't even pause to analyse what he's actually doing (or at least not until Fawkes _finally_ 'calls' him on it, by which point it's too late).

Horace Slughorn gives his notice, once the exam results _finally_ come out and he figures out that Albus messed around with the exam boards _solely to get Severus Snape's potions result thrown out_. Horace had been rather hopeful that Severus (who he feels had been unduly roughly treated) would get at least _one_ OWL, thanks to the priority marking instructions Horace had passed on regarding the year's top pupils, and Albus' actions raise too many questions over the behaviour of the Hogwarts headmaster for Horace Slughorn to want to put up with said behaviour any more for longer than he has to. If it hadn't been unfair on the pupils, Horace would have been strongly tempted to walk out without bothering to work out proper period of notice...

Gnaeus Octavian Prince basically drops by Albus' office because Albus has trespassed on 'his' territory, poking his nose around a business that Gnaeus owns and being so rude as to point his wand at a muggle whom Gnaeus employs. Gnaeus would have preferred Albus not to be aware that Gnaeus owns a majority share in Bingby & Cratchettall at all, but since Albus _has_ shoved his nose in, Gnaeus considers it preferable that Albus be informed of his stake if that gets Albus to stop pestering the employees. And since he's there, Gnaeus messes around with Albus for his own amusement, including for the potential satisfaction of being able to say, later on, '_I told you so_' on a couple of counts. Well, that and he _does_ have a smidgin of respect for the man's duelling abilities, and intellect, but if only _he'd focus_ on one or two priority issues instead of trying to do too much and ending up not doing _anything_ of worth (to Gnaeus' mind) at all well. But given Albus' track-record, for recent years, Gnaeus considers that he's doing wizarding society a favour, really, if he gives events behind the scenes the odd helpful nudge here and there, so that at least the impending fall, when it happens, will be mercifully quick...

Gnaeus, when he makes his comment about disillusionment is actually referring to Lily Evans. Gnaeus doesn't know that she's already reached the final fatal tipping point, a couple of evenings prior to his trip to see Albus, but he's sufficiently certain of her direction of travel to be sure that at some point in the future, Albus Dumbledore may come to seriously regret his interactions involving Lily Evans. A very special kind of anger, contempt, and loathing can arise from the sense of betrayal of a once-devotee...

The toy/'illustrative device' with balls hanging in a row from parallel bars, which James Potter is messing with, in the scene in which he and Sirius feature is a 'Newton's Cradle'. The 'inflatable bladder' James ambushed the unsuspecting political expert with is a 'whoopee cushion'.

To the best of my knowledge, Philosopher's Fire is not a part of canon. Note that the Greek and Roman witches and wizards involved on the magical side of the siege of Syracuse 'covered up' the devastation its employment had caused to the magical quarters of Syracuse. Although that took place well before the Statute of Secrecy era, presumably they were afraid of repercussions against them if word got around that they had caused such destruction as took place.

For the record, the Flamels and Severus Snape are the only 'western' practitioners of magic I envision as capable (in this universe) of independently brewing Philosopher's fire, as of August 1976, although Lily has obviously seen it done and may have a quarter of an idea of what to do. The Flamels and Severus Snape are certainly the only ones with any idea of how to _stop_ it, other than by (non-magically) applying large quantities of water and hoping, or just waiting for it to burn itself out.

Lily's getting a new wand (and the nature of the _particular_ wand which she gets) is to some extent an artistic liberty on my part, intended to counterpoint the start of the story where Severus (the other side of the Severus/Lily partnership) snaps his wand and sets everything in this story in motion. And yet, writing this chapter, it did seem halfway credible to me that in some cases, where a dramatic turn around of character is occurring, a wand _might_ become alienated from its witch/wizard owner. As of July, 2013, I have no idea how much Tom Marvolo Riddle paid for his wand in canon, but it seemed appropriate to me that it should have been the same amount that canon Harry Potter pays for the 'brother wand'.

I have no information from canon, as of July 2013, as to what designs may appear on wizarding world coinage. Galleons featuring dragons on at least one side seemed to me appropriate.

At least one correspondent, between my posting this chapter, and the addition of these notes, has commented feeling it's unfair that Lily gets a powerful wand (and is implied to one day become a head of a great house), and Severus gets 'nothing'. Yes, Lily has a wand which is in Mr. Ollivander's opinion potentially rather problematic, but Severus has had the imagination and intellect to re-engineer a secret lost for thousands of years. Severus has reasoned out the groundwork for a goblin rebellion (even if he doesn't have the leadership qualities to be able to take charge himself). _And Severus has Lily_, who complements some of his own weaknesses, with her strengths, and is so much more to him, too...

* * *

><p>As a reminder, the 'supplemental pieces' for this story are:<p>

* Reign of the Marauders (the end of Lily's fifth year at Hogwarts)

* Man for the Job (a brief piece, in which Mundungus Fletcher has a job interview)

* In Pursuit of Princes (in which Lord Voldemort wants Lucius Malfoy to try and find out for him if Gnaeus Octavian Prince is up to anything that Lord Voldemort ought to know about)

* * *

><p>That was the last chapter, proper, of this story, and (revisions excepting) it's all over now, bar the odd epilogue.<p>

Thank-you for reading.

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><p>Additional comment (September, 2013):<p>

The shopping list of ingredients Severus sends Lily off to Diagon Alley to get has on it a number of key ingredients he is missing required for his Philosopher's Fire project, and a good many more that he doesn't need, to hide what he is after. If anyone is covertly monitoring Lily, he doesn't want what she's doing to seem unduly suspicious to such watchers, or to give away what is specifically on the recipe for what he actually wants to try to brew.


	8. Epilogue: Too Late

…_For I have a song to sing, O!_ …

…_It is sung to the moon _

_By a love-lorn loon, _

_Who fled from the mocking throng, O! _

_It's the song of a merryman, moping mum, _

_Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum, _

_Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb, _

_As he sighed for the love of a ladye!_

- Jack Point ('a strolling jester') in _The Yeomen of the Guard_ by Gilbert and Sullivan

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter.<p>

Note: The following is set in an alternate universe during August of 1976, where some characters and events are becoming significantly different from canon, following the manner in which Severus Snape snapped his own wand and quit Hogwarts. Since I originally posted the previous chapter, I've carried out a round of minor amendments which included adding a clarification to the Author Notes of the 'Not According to Plan' chapter regarding Gnaeus' widower status. This story is rated 'M'.

Further Note: 'Too Late' looks over the shoulder of James Potter as a new school year kicks off, and later over the brim of the Sorting Hat, as the day comes to an end. There are only oblique references to Severus/Lily in the bulk of this instalment, but I consider the content essential to the 'winding down' process of these epilogues.

* * *

><p>James Potter was careful to arrive extra-early at King's Cross station on the morning that the departure of the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to get the new school year underway. He'd been up half the previous night polishing his prefect badge, laying his clothes out, and carefully rehearsing his chat-up lines. It was rotten luck on Moony, of course, that he'd had to go as a prefect, but it meant that this coming year, with James stepping into his place, James would be seeing a <em>lot<em> more of Lily, and he was confident that she wouldn't be able to resist his very many charms and talents in such close proximity. He gave her six months, before she succumbed – maybe the full school year if she had to pretend she was still particularly upset about the awesome spiders-in-the-library prank, and the way in which in the immediate wake of that good old Professor McGonagall had come through and told her to lighten up.

James waited as the head-boy and head-girl and other prefects started to arrive, sure that Lily would turn up pretty soon. She was a stickler for rules, and was bound to get here early, although not as early as James had done, obviously.

And then James had the unpleasant surprise of seeing Joyce Brockall arrive on the platform, a prefect badge pinned to her robes.

Joyce was a horse-faced pure-blood, who happened to be in Gryffindor, and didn't seem to know much about having fun (although from James' perspective, that latter could also be said about much _less_ plain-looking Gryffindors). Crucially, Joyce was not just a Gryffindor, but in James' year, and James could do elementary maths. Only two prefects a year in each house, one male, one female…

"Where's Lily?" James approached Joyce, a feeling of unease uncoiling in the pit of his stomach. "Lily Evans I mean?"

"How should I know?" Joyce stared back at him seeming confused by the question.

"This is a prank, right? It has to be? She's owled you her badge or something, and asked you to turn up to give me a stir, right?"

"Professor McGonagall personally handed me my badge five days ago." Joyce was looking at James now as if he was crazy. "She said something about Evans not being able to execute her duties this year, so would I mind stepping in at the last minute?"

That was… taking things a _bit_ far… James thought to himself. Had Lily known that he was going to replace Moony as prefect? He couldn't remember now if anything had been said publically before the end of last term or not, but clearly she must have found out about it and refused to be a prefect at the same time as him, to avoid his company. Okay, this was obviously going to require much more work than James had expected, but still, he had two whole years at Hogwarts ahead of him to win her around, right? And he'd been practising _orchideous_ especially, to impress her.

* * *

><p>The platform started to fill, and James patrolled it rigorously, on a constant lookout for Lily's familiar red head of hair and flashing green eyes. He greeted Sirius (who had still been in bed asleep when James left home, having no particular reason of his own to make it to the station at the same hour as James) with a nod – and with a slight pang of jealousy James noted Peter arrive, and with this <em>silly<em> soppy look on his face producing a large bouquet of flowers to hand to that girl who'd they'd collided with at the end of last term on this very platform. It wasn't fair, James thought to himself. _He_ should be doing that to Lily right now…

He was so distracted by Peter, in fact, that it took him several seconds to notice that Moony had appeared from somewhere and was saying something to him.

"Huh, what?" James said, throwing a last lingering glance at Peter.

"I asked, James, how the end of your and Sirius' holiday went?" Remus repeated himself.

* * *

><p>Mid-afternoon – having patrolled the train far more frequently than his prefect duties would have required of him for most of the morning – James called a crisis meeting with the other Marauders to discuss the whole Lily situation. There seemed to be a certain odd tension on the train as a whole, and also a distinct absence of Lily.<p>

"She's not on the train." James said to his three closest friends. "Not unless she's disguised or something, but I've been looking not just at faces but at wands too, and I didn't see hers anywhere."

"I spent most of the summer hunting for her, but with no luck." Remus said.

"I told you, she looked _scared_ of us at the end of last term." Peter said. "Maybe we frightened her out of Hogwarts."

"She's a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors don't frighten easily." James said dismissively. "That spiders prank didn't faze her in the least, and most girls will run a mile to get away from spiders. Remember how much Mary McDonald screamed? No, if she was scared of anything, it must have been of one of those Death Eaters – or maybe she thought she saw Severus lying in wait for her at the station. She's probably so worried of a repeat that the headmaster or someone else is flooing her into school."

"Well we need to hope that she _is_ going to show up, and not _just_ because James wants her to be his girlfriend." Sirius said. He cut James' objections short: "No, Prongs, that's important to _you_, I realise, but look at the bigger picture for a moment: Even if it's for some other reason, like maybe a family illness or something, a lot of people are going to think exactly what Peter just said, if she doesn't show up. They're going to believe that maybe _we_ scared her off. And some of them might even conclude that I – in particular – was responsible, with that bit of rough horseplay down in the dungeons at the end of last term with that junior snake, Lily, and the headmaster's phoenix."

"Everyone knows you're a decent, fair-minded, bloke at heart, Padfoot." James said. "How could anyone possibly think otherwise?"

"My family apparently do." Sirius said darkly. "Kreacher ambushed me in the toilet on board the Express this morning – I wish he'd find somewhere else to do it. He handed me a small sack of galleons – and a note from my father which just said '_Well done._' and which self-destructed the moment I'd had the chance to read it. And Kreacher was _smirking_. And it wasn't just one of his _usual_ Kreacher smirks, but the special one he normally has for when my mother or father have come back from a spot of 'successful' muggle-baiting. Something's up, regarding Lily, I reckon, and my family think I had a big part to play in it."

* * *

><p>By the time that the Hogwarts Express had arrived at Hogsmeade, Remus Lupin had <em>finally<em> tracked down a lead. He'd managed to catch fellow sixth year Gryffindor Sheila Bollinger in a relatively communicative mood (most of Lily's friends were ignoring the Marauders completely when the subject of Lily came up) and to get a few titbits of gossip out of her.

"Sheila says Lily's not attending Hogwarts this year." Remus reported back to his fellow Marauders as they disembarked onto the hubbub of the platform. "Apparently she's decided to quit school and look for work. Sheila heard she's got an interview to be an apothecary's apprentice, coming up soon."

"She's not going to even _be_ at Hogwarts this year?" James asked at much the same time as Sirius asked: "Did you at least manage to wangle an _address_ out of her?"

"I presume not," Remus said to James, then turned to Sirius: "Sheila says nobody has Lily's current address right now. She moved out of her parents' house for some reason and is keeping hush-hush about her current location. Apparently she has her own owl now, and keeps in touch with all her friends that way."

"Bugger." said Sirius.

* * *

><p>Another Sorting and feast had come and gone, and the Sorting Hat was back in the headmaster's office, being subjected to occasional rather <em>hurt<em> looks by the headmaster as he started to pack and ensure papers were in order.

"I wish," said Albus Dumbledore somewhat plaintively, as he briefly riffled through a pile of complaints about the state of some of the school brooms "that you'd warned me you were going to do that, and that we might have discussed it first."

"At times I subscribe to Godric's rather muscular notion of negotiation – that the best time to negotiate is when you have your foot firmly on your opponent's throat, with your sword tickling his chin – and I considered that if I'd aired my notion you needed a break earlier, you might have found some reason not to let me anywhere near the sorting this year." the Sorting Hat said unapologetically. It had effectively announced in front of the entire school that the headmaster was about to take a year long sabbatical. After a moment of shock, the headmaster had had the sense to go along with that and confirm it. "I'm glad that you picked up on the undertones of my song this year so well. The way you've been in recent months, I was concerned you might have missed my efforts to be subtle, and that I might have to stage an open showdown."

"Things should never have come to the point where you effectively held an entire year's sorting hostage to get my attention. If you had problems with anything I've been doing, you should have said so sooner."

"I did, headmaster. Repeatedly. Apparently you weren't paying attention."

There was a long silence, then at last Albus sighed.

"No. Perhaps not. Perhaps I _do_ need a break. And I shall certainly take advantage of the great quantity of time it will leave me free to write frequently to Minerva, to advise her on how she should act in my absence."

And there it was. Why what the Sorting Hat had just done was a superficial victory at best. It may have obliged Albus to take a twelve month holiday from his headmaster duties, but he would _still_ be interfering behind the scenes, writing to Minerva, telling _her_ what to do.

All that the hat could do was hope that at least removing Albus Dumbledore one step from proceedings helped to calm the school, but it had had a sense in the hall during the sorting of three of the houses closing ranks against the fourth, in the glances cast between tables and the mutterings going on. The hat had felt sorry for every child it sent to Gryffindor House this year. If things went bad, it would start with nasty jinxes coming at the Marauders from all sides, but from there it would escalate to Gryffindors generally becoming targets. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were practically up in arms, already, about what James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus had 'gotten away with' towards the end of the last school year, and since the headmaster had shown a tendency of letting pranks and misbehaviour go unpunished…

And the Slytherins would go along with any such attacks – not caring one jot about the muggle-born that Sirius Black had 'driven out of the school', but driven rather by a mixture of pragmatism, desire for vengeance for past slights, and a yearning to see the headmaster's favourites laid low.

The hat just hoped that in such a scenario things didn't get as bad as that time in the 1600's, when an atmosphere of such disregard amongst the pupils for their fellow pupils and for the teachers had been successfully cultivated by the headmaster of the time, that outside assistance had had to be called in to end three days of rioting.

Maybe Albus being visibly absent from the scene and Minerva apparently in charge would count for something to at least restrain a rush to action – if not exactly to ease tensions.

But the hat had a foreboding feeling deep in its fabric…

* * *

><p>Author Notes: (subject to update depending on early reviews)<p>

Information on students in Lily's year is patchy, at best, at the time of writing (October 2013). Professor McGonagall obviously needed to find _someone_ to replace Lily, as prefect, and Joyce Brockall is the witch who (as far as I know) I have invented who Professor McGonagall selects to fill the role.

_Orchideous_, according to Harry Potter wiki at the time of writing (October, 2013), is the incantation of a transfiguration spell which produces a bouquet of flowers.

Plans have been fomented amongst Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs over the summer to target the 'muggle-born hating Sirius Black' with a good many 'pranks' this coming year, since the headmaster clearly doesn't care about 'pranks' being carried out by students. Remus Lupin is also going to be a target amongst those feeling brave enough to risk angering such a dark creature which is still so blatantly in their midst (despite having lost his prefect badge).

As noted in the previous chapter, the posting of epilogues to this story will be sporadic.

* * *

><p>(The following rough draft of a scene was cut from the main body of this epilogue, since it did not fit the narrative structure to my satisfaction; I post it here, as a sort of 'bonus content' since it seems unlikely to fit either in future epilogues. It features an event which occurs several days after the commencement of the 1976-1977 Hogwarts school year of the 'Alternate Scene by the Lake 4' universe.)<p>

Long-term plans and goals aside, Lily wanted to at least attempt to contribute, financially, to the Snape household, and to try to cover some of her own costs, which meant looking for almost certainly low-paid work open to a not-yet-of-age muggle-born witch who would at some point need to take time off to have a baby. That basically meant looking for apprenticeship positions – involving work out of sight of any customers in the case of any shops.

So far it was hard and unsuccessful going. Her OWLs were impressive to most potential employers, but the whole being underage thing counted against her – and inevitably she got asked just _why_, given her OWL results, she wasn't still at school? The least dangerous answer she could give to that was to look embarrassed and mention being pregnant, at which point potential employers tended to lose any interest that they might have had altogether. The best offer she'd had so far was to the effect of 'come back in a couple of years' time, dear'.

Her being a muggle-born hadn't actually really been a problem so far, even when it had come up. Apparently most business owners didn't care what blood status potential employees they were looking at to clean out their chicken-coops/cut their cloth/grind their potions ingredients might have.

She was beginning to wonder whether writing to Professor Slughorn to request assistance was worth the potential risk of his mail being monitored by the likes of Albus Dumbledore?

She was currently sitting in a back-room over a business in Knockturn Alley, waiting to see her next interviewer. It was for an apothecary's apprentice job, and apparently the interviewer was somewhat scary. Three of the previous candidates who'd gone in whilst Lily was waiting for her turn had emerged pale-faced and trembling, and the dwarf supervising waiting candidates had had to go into the room to physically drag another applicant for the position out, who had apparently fainted clean away. It wasn't clear what was going on next door, since some sort of heavy-duty privacy spells were blocking out all conversations, and the only sounds to ever emerge were those of what sounded like a reception-desk bell, apparently able to circumvent the silencing and used to signal the dwarf.

Another candidate emerged – this one a heavy-set middle-aged fellow with scars down one side of his face where it looked like he'd once been clawed by something – who swallowed _hard_, before taking a moment to compose himself and heading out.

The bell the unseen interviewer in the next room was using to communicate with the 'waiting area' _pinged_ and the dwarf glanced at his list.

"Miss Lily Evans." the dwarf announced.

Lily got up, squared her shoulders and tried to look respectful and not _too_ nervous, and headed for the door.

On the other side, as a flick of his wand closed the door behind her, she found herself under the steely grey gaze of Gnaeus Octavian Prince. He'd glanced briefly at a list of some kind as she entered.

"Miss Evans?"

The tone was polite and formal – and showed no signs of familiarity or of recognition.

For a moment Lily almost did a double-take, wondering if this was some twin-brother, or magical doppelganger. She managed to instead nod, and respond with a vaguely affirmative sounding: "Sir?"

"Please be seated." he gestured to the chair across the table behind which he sat from him, whilst Lily's brain did overtime.

_There are no coincidences with Gnaeus Octavian Prince_, her inner Slytherin whispered. _Not ones this size where you're looking for a job and he turns up as an interviewer._

This was followed up by the thought:

_And if he's feigning not to recognise you, then this is a __test__ of some kind, to see how you react and handle yourself…_

Right. Best to respond in kind, then, and to be all proper and formal. And at all costs, remember not to mention Severus or his mum, unless Gnaeus specifically introduced the subject – and even then remember _they're not related to him, unless he says otherwise_.


End file.
